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Thanks

By: LilRedVixen514



A warm sensation washes over her as he nuzzles the side of her neck. His fingers glide through her silky hair before grabbing a fistful of it. A soft moan escapes her throat. She is captured in his eyes. Her cheeks are flushed and her heart is racing. His grip on her hair tightens as he pulls him closer to him. his teeth nip playfully on the corner of her mouth, and down her jaw to the nap of her neck. God how she craves him. Trapped by the grip he has on her hair. Would she run if she had the chance? 

Probably not. It thrills her to be at his mercy. Their teasing and torturing has gone on far too long for her to tell him to stop now. She longs to wrap her legs around his waist as he plunges into the very center of her. His tongue traces a line from the nape of her neck to her ear. His left hand slides up her shirt and cups her breast. His fingers tease the already hardened nipple through her bra. Her knees are weak. She braces herself against him. She shifts her hips slowly from side to side so that her ass is rubbing against his crotch. Turn about is fair play after all. He groans quietly. 

"My pet how unfair of you to tease me like that." He whispers in her ear. She can't help but smile. She reaches up to gently pull his hand from her hair. She is shocked that he gives up his control so easily. She turns to face him. Lust burns in his eyes. It sends chills through her. She squeezes her hand between them and lazily brushes it over the bulge in his pants. He closes his eyes for a moment to relish the feeling. A mischievous smile creeps across her face as she undoes the buckle to his belt. With one swift motion she removes it from his pants. Her hand again drifts to the bulge in his pants. She slowly walks around him, letting her hand drag across his crotch. 

"Put your hands behind you back." She says sternly. His head whips around as he tries to protest.

"Do it!" She says before he can put up a fight. Slowly he moves his hands behind his back. She loops his belt around his wrists. Tight enough so he knows she means business, but not so tight as to actually restrain him. She smiles sweetly as she steps back around to the front of him. A smirk plays on his lips. She stands on her tiptoes to kiss his roughly on the mouth before dropping to her knees in front of him. She uses her teeth to unbutton and unzip his pants. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and underwear to pull them down. His cock stands at complete attention. She wraps her arms around his waist and takes him all the way in her mouth. She lets her teeth graze over the head before slowly sliding it back out of her mouth. His legs tremble as her tongue makes small circles on the head of his cock. She nibbles gently up and down the shaft, then flattens her tongue to lick and tease the underside. She reaches down the front of her own pants to finger her clit. Hell if he's getting off she might as well get off too, right? She moans softly while sucking his cock in and out of her mouth. 

He tries to hold back his groans, but her teasing draws it out of him. Her fingers pick up the pace on her clit, while her mouth does the same on his cock. His breathing becomes faster. So does hers. Without warning her orgasm hits her hard. She takes his dick from her mouth, and wraps her hand around it. She jerks him off fast, while striving for a second orgasm of her own. His body goes rigid as his orgasm wash over him. She doesn't realize he's coming until the first little spurt hits her chin. Without thinking twice she wraps her lips around the head of his cock and lets him come in her mouth. When he is finished she swallows, then stands. 

"Thanks for the stockings." She says before using her index finger to wipe the come from her chin. She winks at him as she sucks it off her finger, and walks out of his apartment. Leaving him standing there with his pants around his ankles and a huge grin on his face.

Thanks



How is that you thank a group of people who have been there for you through so much? How do I make them realize how much their support has meant to me over the last year?

First I guess I should start at the beginning. This last year has probably been one of the toughest emotionally for me in my entire twenty nine years on this earth . While no great tragedy occurred in my life. This year has been a huge year of growth. It has been a year that has truly led me to discover a lot about who I am. I have discovered that I am a lot tougher that I thought I could ever be. Yet I realize now that sometimes I put too much expectations on myself. 

While all of this discovery was occurring there were a select group of people who have stood by me through it all . These true friends deserve all the thanks in the world. I know that I could never in a million years truly express my gratitude to them. Yet I will try and make them understand how much it means to me to have friends like them.

First of all to my real biological mother, I know that you at times this year wanted to Gibbs' slap me to the back of the head but thank you for not doing that. Thank you for letting me discover how much of a jerk this guys I was with really were all on my own. I know that it was tough watching your daughter get hurt . Secondly to my grandmother, I know that we do not always agree on how I live my life but I know one thing is certain will always and have always loved me. It is tough to watch the friendship we once had hit its bumps in the road this year but I truly do believe that what does not kill us makes us stronger. We are closer now than we have been in a long time. Another person I have to thank is my Uncle Mike, I know that you think of me as your own and your support of me over the last year and for that matter my entire life as been amazing . I know that no matter what decision I make in the future you will always be there for me and for that I am forever grateful. 

Now on to my online friends, while I may not know any of you in person it does not mean that you have been any less there for me then anyone else in some cases you have been there more . First of all, a woman who is as close to a mother as she could be without having the same DNA as me. Sharon, you truly are one of the best friends a girl could ever ask for. No matter what happened to me this year you were always there to help me pick up the pieces. I know that when I need a shoulder to cry on you would be there for me. Then there is Roy, while you and I have almost the entire continent separating us you always seem to be there when I need to talk whether it is in the middle of the afternoon or the middle of the night. If I am feeling down you always seem to know how to put a huge smile on my face and that is something I truly appreciate . 

The list of people that I have supporting me in person is so endless, it is crazy but I must highlight a few that truly have made a difference in my life especially in the last year. Starting with a young man that I have know since high school. Dan, you truly are special. You always seem to know how to make me feel like I can move a mountain if I want to. Yet you are also one of those people that I know will be there to help me if I need it. Thank you so much for this. Then of course there is the crew that I work with at my job, while you all can make me a little crazy sometimes I know that if I ever need someone to talk to any one of you would been there to lend an year and each time I think about it, it puts a huge smile on my face. 

Lastly there is a group of people that need a paragraph all to themselves, they are the people that attend and perform at the open mic nights at the Spoon Coffee House. Let me start with Joey. Thank you for letting the most nervous young lady take the stage almost a year ago and have the chance to grow into something she never thought she could possibly be. MJ, we may be able to hear your laughter from the front to the back of the coffee shop but you can also hear your love for the performers . Thanks for the support. Angela, my friend and my groupie, I adore you . Seeing you walk through those doors on a Wednesday puts a smile on my face. You told me I could do this before even I believed I could and I thank you for your believing in me. John, a few months ago you asked me when I would be up there on that stage myself and I hesitated to tell you. Let me tell you this my friend when I do you will definitely be getting an invitation. Last and most definitely not least George, you made me feel at home at Spoon. You helped me to realize that I can do whatever I put my mind to. Every time I get up on that stage I am little more confident. I think you are right some day soon I will just know when I had a good set and not have to look at anyone else to find out. 

Thank you so much to everyone for their support over the last year. It means the world to me.



Thanks a Lot



Authors note:

Not my usual sort of story, but hey! A competition is a competition! This is my Halloween submission.

Thanks as always, to Techsan for his fantastic editing. (Note: there are tons of intentional errors in this! It's not easy to be crazy! Give me a break!)

And vote, folks! It takes 25 votes to even be eligible for the contest!

MAIL CALL

Solange looked at the box that came in the mail. There was no return address, just the box. Opening it she found an old 45 record. "Shit," she thought, "I haven't seen one of these for years." The title was "Thanks a Lot" and squinting she could see it was done by Ernest Tubb. It didn't mean anything to her... she wasn't sure she had even seen a 45 vinyl before!

After staring at it for a while, she figured "What the hell!" and put it on the record player (which she hadn't used since her asshole husband had finally got the word and left). She looked at the settings, saw the 33-rpm, and yes, there was one for 45-rpm. Playing the record she heard a somewhat whiney, somewhat scratchy voice (a nice voice she decided) singing:

I got a broken heart and that's all I got
You made me cry and I cried a lot.
Then you were gone, honey, thanks a lot.

You told my friends as I was passin' by
That you're not sorry that you made me cry.
You said I deserved everything I got.
If that's the way you feel, honey, thanks a lot.

You wanted a fool and I played the part.
All I got is a broken heart.
We loved a little and you laughed a lot.

I just needed your love,
Honey, thanks a lot.

Damn! It was from her Ex. This being October 31st, she figured it must be his (always) strange sense of humor. Asshole!

She took the record, broke it over her knee, and threw it in the trash.

And... forgot about it.

INTERLUDE ONE

i was messed up again – damn pills shit I was tryin' to 'member somthin' what what shit! oh yeah that bitch that bitch sent her the damn thanks a lot song yeah thanks a lot a lot shit what oh yeah I was gonna git that damn bitch yeah thanks a lot

WHAT TO WEAR

Solange forgot about the record and started thinking about the party that night. With some friends, she had been invited to this party that sounded really wild! This bed and breakfast inn was going to be torn down so a winery could be built. The bar where she partied was renting the place; it had been empty for a year.

The theme was "Psycho", the Hitchcock thriller. The B&B was being decorated to look like "Bates Motel" even down to the sign. Everyone drew a piece a paper telling him or her their role, and how they were to dress. Since there were really just a few parts, they had multiple persons assigned to each role. The fun would be to see how each person adapted their part!

What made it really sound like fun was the bar promised some surprises! 

Solange had drawn the role of Marion Crane, the embezzler. She was excited about this and had some great ideas, both for the outfit and the role. Oh, yeah! This was going to be fun.

She went upstairs to take her shower. Standing in the tub she pulled the shower curtain closed. Adjusting the water temp she started thinking of Juan, Juan Alejandro, a guy she had met at the bar, but had not fucked yet. But she would! Forgetting about the shower she started rubbing her breasts then put her hand between her legs, images of Juan in her mind.

A noise, faint, almost intruded in her mind. A shadow, maybe a shadow, oh! Her climax! The shadow, what was it. Oh, my god! Shit! Panicking, she flung the curtain open and saw... shit! Her roommate Miranda.

"Jesus Christ, Mira, you scared the shit out of me!" 

Laughing, Miranda said, "Yeah, I noticed you were somewhat preoccupied! Whose cock were you thinking about this time? Anyway, hurry up! I have to get ready too."

INTERLUDE TWO

ah fuckin' pills anyway grass was better pot, grass, weed, maryjane, acapulcogold, reefer grass oh yeah oh that bitch oh thanks a lot a lot a lot oh this is good yeah I got plans for her oh yeah thanks a lot she'll get it yeah this is good shit o yeah I know about the party oh yeah good shit oh what's in the bottle get that bitch thanks a lot bates I am I am yeah norman oh stormin' norman nah norman the knife guy thanks a lot

TO THE PARTY

Solange and Miranda took a cab to the party. Neither expected to sleep in their beds that night. Solange had decided on the sweet innocent look, a vulnerable look. Miranda was obviously Norma Bates, the mother. She had found a really old black gown, dusty, cobwebs, dowdy in an antique (junk) store. She wore it as it was, no cleaning, to get more atmosphere.

The cab pulled in front of the "Bates Motel". There were no lights. It was dark. The cab driver said "Ladies, you sure this is the right place?"

Miranda answered, " Fuck, yeah! Just let us off."

They looked at the somber building, quiet for a moment. Approaching the front door they looked at each other, a question in their eyes. Pulling the old fashioned ringer they waited for a response, and waited. Nothing!

Shrugging their shoulders, they walked around the side of the house. There were no lights. Dark! Very dark!

There was a path, sort of a path! Stumbling towards the back, Solange slipped on the grass... slipped and... EEIEEIEH! A curdling scream, dying in a throttling breath as Miranda dived into the mud with Solange. Solange grabbed Mira's hand and, scuttling to the side, tried to get away... as the flashlight came on!

Jimmy, the owner of the bar laughed "Gotcha!" Taking their hands he lifted them and walked to the back of the house. Putting his hand on their ripe buttocks, he helped them up the stairs. 

"Open the door," he directed. 

Solange took the door handle and twisted it open. As she pulled the door, there was a godawful sound, a creeaakk followed by a blinding light shining on a skeleton hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping down it's arms.

INTERLUDE THREE

yeah she laughed at him she did did thanks a lot but he knew he knew the party he did she there yeah she would be laughed at him she did with her friends she did my broken heart yeah thanks a lot all I needed was love thanks a lot get her I will damn her I will the party yeah the party yeah damn she the bitch a broken heart yeah not sorry no needed love thanks a lot

BATES MOTEL

Jimmy was laughing like hell at Miranda and Solange... he kept saying gotcha! Gotcha! Over and over, almost cackling.

"Come on, ladies, the booze is in the lobby."

They walked into the lobby into a cacophony of sound. Everyone seemed to be there already. Two, three and even four of Norman Bates, his mother Norma, Marion Crane, the sheriff and highway patrol officers, even the hardware store customer. Clearly they were into the booze, and apparently for some time.

Jimmy had done a good job. Every few minutes the lights would dim and a ghostly voice would spout some dialogue from the film. The characters for that part would parade in front of the bar and people would clap for their choice of the most authentic.

Every once in a while the lights would stay off and there would be strange noises rattling around the house, punctuated at times by an eerie scream from upstairs.

When this happened, Solange would feel the hairs at the back of her neck rise, and she would shudder. "Shit!" she thought, this is almost too real!"

After a few drinks she needed to use the comforts. Asking around, she found out that Jimmy had only wanted to spend the money to fix up one bathroom, the one upstairs representing the famous shower scene. Hesitating, then saying to herself "Damn! This is stupid! This is just a party" and slowly climbed the stairs.

INTERLUDE FOUR

oh yeah plan yes a plan shower yes a knife thanks a lot sharpen it yeah sharp cunt in the shower yeah thanks a lot didn't deserve it it not a fool yeah a brokin' heart kill the bitch yeah thanks a lot

THE SHOWER

Solange slowly climbed the last few steps to the second floor. It was dark, only a red light over a door down the hall. Walking to it she felt the goose bumps rising on her arms. 

Sardonically laughing at herself she thought "Jeez! It must be Juan that's doing this to me."

Opening the door to the bathroom, everything looked normal (whatever normal was in this zoo!). 

Looking in the mirror, she grinned and said to herself 'Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?"

A reflection in the mirror, a dark shadow... yes, behind the curtain. "What the Hell!"

Turning slowly she reached for the shower curtain... a sharp, ear-splitting scream shattered the quiet... her scream echoing... heart palpitating, body shutting down... "Shit!" it's just more of Jimmy's antics. Self-consciously she glanced in the mirror as she pulled the shower curtain open!

Downstairs Miranda dropped her drink as she heard another blood curdling scream! "Jesus, she thought" this is too much as she looked around for Jimmy. The scream abruptly stopped! She walked over to the bar and said, "Goddamn! Give me a double right now!"

INTERLUDE FIVE

yeah yeah got the bitch in the shower got her thanks a lot love me little laugh a lot thanks a lot bitch like the rag on your face like the smell like the sleep bitch gotcha bitch thanks a lot

THE ATTIC

Solange woke up with a splitting headache. It was dark, but not quite. There were a couple of candles, incensed, strange smell. Like... like a dead animal! She shuddered and tried to look around. She couldn't turn her head... with the headache she couldn't figure out why. Behind her, a noise! Like mice running around the insulation in the attic floor... in front of her a rat – damn, it looked like a cat, but the teeth! 

Cobwebs hanging down from the rafters. Something crawling – spiders?

Then, behind her, a cackling! A manic, eerie, skin crawling cackling. An insane Cackling!

Suddenly, in front of her face a knife! Shit! It looked like the knives they had downstairs for the props... like Norman Bate's butcher knife! A presence looming over her! One of the candles guttered out. The light from the other was dancing, shadows leaping, the knife...

INTERLUDE SIX

yeah the knife yeah sharp cut cut me the knife damn bitch thanks a lot sharpened it yes again again again cut me over over blood dripping my blood yeah thanks a lot got the bitch now the knife the sharp knife yeah laugh at me she will will no more write with the knife I can I will yeah thanks a lot

THE BAR

The bartender was getting bored. Drunks were all the same whether it was a Halloween party or any other kind of party. He started pouring a pitcher of Margaritas into the salted glasses when a awful, eerie scream came from upstairs. 

"Shit!" he exclaimed as he dropped the pitcher on the floor.

"Jerry, damn it! This is too much! Can't you turn that damn thing off?"

Jerry, his face white, stuttered "Bbbill Bill! I turned it off a few minutes ago! What the hell!"

The bartender looked at Jerry "Oh Shit!" and started running up the stairs as a final scream started and agonizingly died to a sickly wail!

Everyone in the bar followed them up to the second floor. At first they saw nothing, then noticed the door to the attic was partially open. Slowly, gingerly, they moved en mass up the stairs, a ghastly sobbing drawing them on. Reaching the top Jerry opened the attic door... and retched!

Tied to a riser was Solange. Weeping, crying, sobbing Solange! Blood dripping off her forehead, down her breasts, blood!

Faintly "Help! Help me! The knife! Oh, God! Him!" as she fainted. Gathering around they saw:

On her left breast "Thanks a lot!" obviously carved with the butcher knife lying on the floor of the attic.

On her right breast "Broke my heart!"

On her forehead "Laughed at me!"

On her left hand "You made me cry!"

On her right hand "I just needed your love!"

On her stomach "Honey thanks a lot!"

Blood dripping, dripping down her body! Red, thick, viscous, life draining from Solange!

Jerry, dizzy, sick, soul sick, retched and passed out! 

Solange dripped, dripped slower and slower as her vital forces ceased!

INTERLUDE LAST

yeah bitch yeah laugh at me laugh thanks a lot

*

Author's Notes

Well, yeah! I guess there is a little of Norman Bates in all of us. But remember this is the season of Hallowed Eve, not the "season to be jolly!"

Laugh at me! Cuss me! But do give me your feedback and vote!



Thanks a Million, Henry T



"I have to do a bit of shopping." I told my son Craig, "Want to come along for the ride?"

"Nah, Mom, it looks like rain, so I think I'll just hang around here."

I was a little disappointed because I liked his company, but after all he was home to have a break from his university studies, so he was entitled to spend his time as he saw fit. I should be pleased that he had chosen to spend part of his break at home, unlike his sister Cheryl who had told us was staying with a couple of girlfriends. At least I hoped she was with girlfriends. Grabbing the keys to Henry T, I headed for the door. "OK, Baby, I'll only be about an hour." 

"That's OK Mom, take your time. I'm a big boy now, I can look after myself."

There was certainly no arguing on that score. At six feet two inches and nineteen years old he towered over my own five feet five, but I still got a kick out of teasing him by calling him my little boy.

As I settled behind the wheel of the old Ford, I sniffed and grinned. It didn't take an Einstein to figure out what my son had been up to last night. Not that I blamed him, but I could only hope that he had been more careful than his dad Ben and I had been in the same back seat twenty years earlier. It hadn't been an old Ford then of course, nor had it yet been christened Henry T, after the founder of the manufacturer. In fact it had been brand new, and Ben had just picked it up from the showroom. It hadn't taken much persuasion for me to slide into the passenger seat, and we had gone for a long drive. Miles from anywhere, he had pulled over and I had moved willingly into the circle of his arms, just as I had many times when he had borrowed his dad's car. I had only intended it to be the usual make out session, with a lot of kissing and a little harmless teenage petting, and I don't know if it was the new car smell or the excitement of a new car, but things got out of hand and almost without realising it we were in the back seat and Ben was popping my cherry.

We had intended to wait until our wedding night, which was only three months away, but now that we had taken the first step we couldn't get enough of each other. When my father proudly walked me down the aisle, he had no idea that he was also escorting his first grandchild. Over the ensuing months and years, Henry T had become an integral part of our lives, and had been instrumental in maintaining the magic in our marriage. In fact I was certain that both Craig, and two years later Cheryl, had both been conceived on the same back seat.

Of course time and the escalating costs of fuel had taken their toll, and the old Ford had been relegated to the status of standby car, in preference to a more modern model that was more reliable and cheaper to maintain. That is not to say that the old bus was neglected. Far from it, because in addition to me using it for shopping trips, Craig and Cheryl both shared its use whenever they were home. Not to mention that Ben and I weren't averse to taking the odd spin for old times' sake. In fact I was pretty sure our son would be shocked if he knew that, only three nights ago, his staid old parents had pulled over in a quiet spot and fucked their brains out in Henry T's back seat.

The memory set up a pleasant warm tingling in my crotch, but my mood was shattered when the old bus sputtered to a stop. I looked at the fuel gauge and cursed. There had been half a tank before Craig had taken the car last night, so the least he could have done was top it up before he came home. I locked the doors, and with an apprehensive glance at the sky I started on the quarter mile trudge home. It was definitely turning out not to be my day, because not only did it look like I wouldn't get any shopping done, but halfway home the heavens opened, and by the time I arrived I was soaked to the skin.

Letting myself in I headed for the living room to give Craig a piece of my mind, and stopped dead in the doorway. My son had grown more than I had realised, because he was slumped in the armchair, staring at a pornographic DVD, with his hand wrapped around a very impressive piece of meat. I watched for a moment then tiptoed back to the front door, opened it silently and slammed it before returning to the living room. The DVD player went silent and he was sitting upright in the chair with a guilty look on his face.

He stared at me. "Mom! What are you doing back so soon? I thought you'd be gone for ages yet." He continued to look me up and down, and I tossed the keys at him.

"I'm back because someone didn't fill the car up last night, and I ran out of fuel." I snapped. "And thanks to that someone I got soaked through." His eyes were still fixed on me and he hunched forward as I added "Now someone can just go retrieve the car and fill the tank. I'm going to shower and put some dry clothes on."

I went upstairs to the bedroom Ben and I shared, and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror my jaw dropped in shock. I'd known I was soaked, but what I hadn't realised was that the rain had made my thin summer dress almost see through, and I blushed almost as red as the skimpy bra and thong which were clearly visible through the fabric. Even worse, the chill had made my nipples stand out like thimbles. No wonder Craig had stared! When I heard the front door slam I undressed and stepped under the shower. The warm spray was relaxing, and I closed my eyes when suddenly a thought struck me. Craig had hunched forward in his chair when he stared at me. Surely he hadn't got an erection looking at his own mother? I shook my head in denial. Of course he hadn't, he'd been watching a porno movie. It must have been that, right? This brought my mind back to what I'd seen. Telling myself I was only thinking objectively, I admitted he did have rather a handsome tool, but that didn't mean anything, did it? But if that was true, why hadn't the warm water made my nipples subside? If anything they were even harder, and the warm wetness between my thighs wasn't all due to the shower. With a shock I realised that somehow my hand had found its way between my thighs, parting my shaved lower lips, and was now working furiously on my swollen clit. My orgasm was sudden and intense, and I sank to the floor of the shower, trembling as my cum poured from my slit.

Gradually I regained my composure, and riddled with shame I finished my shower and towelled myself dry. As I dressed I started looking for excuses for what had happened, and by the time I finished I had all but convinced myself that I didn't really fancy my own son. Why would I when I had such a fantastic sex life with his father? It was just that the idea that he had been turned on by seeing me virtually in my underwear had turned me on. This in turn had made him spur of the moment masturbation material, because let's face it I was already horny after thinking what went on in Henry T. After all I often played with myself whilst Ben was at work, so this was just another to add to my list of impossible fantasies.

Nonetheless, when Craig returned with Henry T, I couldn't bring myself to meet his eye, so I avoided him by busying myself with preparing the evening meal. When Ben came home all was ready, and I was just finished setting the table. My thoughts were in a turmoil as we ate, and by the time we had finished I had it all straightened out in my mind. 

I refused to believe that my handsome son was a pervert, turned on by seeing his mom in her skimpy underwear. Unfortunately this suggested an equally unpleasant interpretation. There was no way I could deny that at least in part, I had been aroused by him seeing me almost exposed, and let's face it his cock had looked good, so maybe it was I who was the pervert. It certainly sat easier with me to think of myself in that light, rather than think it of my son. I had never considered myself to be immodest, except of course with Ben, but now the tantalising thought of Craig seeing me in just my underwear, without my dress, was making my pussy tingle uncomfortably.

As soon as the dinner things were cleared away, I was relieved when Craig picked up the keys to Henry T, and said he was off out for the evening. The instant I heard the roar of the engine fading away down the street, I sat on Ben's lap and kissed him long and hard. Within minutes I was leaning over the couch, sighing happily as my husband's wonderful cock fucked me to an equally wonderful and much needed climax. Three hours and countless orgasms later we fell into bed, happily exhausted and my pussy dripping from repeated loads of cum.

When I woke in the morning I looked back on the sensational time I'd had the night before, and felt confident that the reaction I had had to Craig seeing me in my wet clothes had been no more than a momentary aberration, triggered by my earlier reminiscences in Henry T. No matter how confident I was however, I felt I needed to be sure. After Ben left for work I took a long shower, and not wanting to tempt fate too much I pulled on a pair of brief panties in preference to my customary thong. Selecting a dress ring from my jewellery box, I clenched it in my fist and knelt on the floor at the foot of my bed. Making sure that my robe had ridden up enough to reveal my butt, I thrust my arm under the bed and called out. "Craig! Help me!" 

The door opened behind me and in the several seconds of silence that followed, I was sure I could feel his eyes burning into me, especially where the thin fabric cupped my mound, and I got the answer I really hadn't wanted. Hating myself for the heat that was surging through my loins, and even more because it felt so good, I gave it a few more moments, then called out again, as though I didn't know he was there. "Craig, come here! My arm is stuck!" There was another brief silence before Craig chuckled and I felt something brush across my bottom - I couldn't be sure if it was his hand or his shin -- and then he was standing astride me. He crouched to grasp the edge of the bed, and this time I convinced myself I could feel his hard young cock pressing against my panty covered ass.

He lifted the end of the bed and I stood up, trembling with shame at the beginning of what I told myself was an unwanted orgasm. To cover my embarrassment I opened my hand. "My ring rolled under the bed and I got stuck trying to get it." I ushered him towards the door. "I need to get dressed. Thanks for rescuing me." The instant the door closed behind him I threw myself on the bed, desperate to take care of my need. Taking a vibrator from my bedside drawer I pushed it deep into my wetness, thrusting it frantically in and out with my fingertips, and rubbing my thumb against my swollen clit, as my free hand went to work on my tits and nipples. My arousal was heightened by the thought that my son might be in his room, lustily stroking his magnificent tool as he envisioned his mom's slit capturing his driving rod and milking it of its life essence. Within minutes I had brought myself to a wild shuddering climax, and lay gasping for breath as my toy slipped unnoticed from my sated pussy.

Coming down slowly from my high, I stopped lying to myself and accepted the truth I had been avoiding. From the moment I had stood in my rain soaked clothes and watched my son masturbating, I had fantasised about him fucking me. In my mind I could feel him between my outspread thighs, with his magnificent nineteen year old cock probing and pleasuring his mother's twat, his mouth sucking eagerly on my stiffened nipples, and his strong hands grasping my ass as he pumped his hot cum into my forbidden depths.  

Although I had admitted my perverted and incestuous desires to myself, I wasn't sure I wanted to act on them. I could hardly approach him and say "Craig dear would you like to have forbidden sex with your mother?" If I did and he didn't feel the same, I could well end up turning him against me in disgust. There was nothing unusual in a son wanting to see his mother either fully or partially undressed, that was natural curiosity and it didn't necessarily mean he wanted to get her into bed. It could quite well be that I had only imagined he had stared at me, so any move on my part could end in humiliation for us both, and disaster for me. Even worse, he might be repulsed enough to tell his father, and then I could lose them both, which would be more than I could bear.

However there was no denying that the thought of him looking at me definitely added spice to my masturbation, so maybe I could find a way to explore those possibilities without arousing suspicion. After all that was just harmless fun, and what no one knew couldn't hurt them. Or me. Having decided, I began to put my mind to it in earnest and by Friday, which was when Ben had his monthly Rotary Club meeting and wouldn't be home until very late, I had a half formed plan. I lay in bed thinking over my strategy long after Ben had left for work, then I showered, paying particular attention to my twice weekly shave, and wrapping myself in my shortest robe I took a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet. Slipping one pill into my pocket, I flushed the rest down the toilet, replaced the empty bottle in the cabinet, and went into the kitchen to fix some sandwiches for myself and Craig. After we had eaten I made a show of swallowing the remaining tablet. "I hate taking these damn things." I remarked. "They make me so damn drowsy, but the doctor says I need them. Women's problems." I shrugged as he looked at me. "I have a hell of a headache, can you fetch the aspirin for me?" When he returned shaking the empty bottle I gave him a despairing look. "Look hon, will you run down and get some? Please? I don't dare drive now I've taken that pill."

I grinned with satisfaction when he grabbed the keys to Henry T and disappeared out the door. So far everything was going according to plan. Taking a seat on the couch I turned on the TV and waited. When I heard the car returning I arranged my robe to show a bit of cleavage, and a generous amount of bare leg, then leaned back with my eyes closed.

"Got them Mom." When I didn't respond, I felt the cushion beside me sink as he sat down. "Mom?" He nudged my shoulder. If I kept still maybe he would be tempted to sneak a look at my boob. "Mom?" Another nudge, and then I felt my robe being furtively inched aside. I cautiously opened one eye to just a slit, and my juices started when I saw the look of awe on his face as he gazed raptly at my exposed breast. 'I'll let him look for a couple of minutes until I get worked up' I thought, 'then I'll 'wake up' and go into my room and really get myself off'. 

In theory this was the perfect plan, but he caught me unawares by cupping my breast and tweaking the nipple. This was further than I had wanted to go, but it felt so good that I decided to let him continue for a few moments before going to my room and giving myself the best orgasm ever. As the saying goes, 'The best laid plans, etc.' The 'few moments' stretched out to a few more, and then a few more when he uncovered my other boob and took my puckered bud between his lips. 'Omigod!' I thought 'My son is sucking my tits and I'm doing nothing to stop him!' He took my hand and I felt him wrap my fingers around his cock. My eyes flew open and I tried to pull my hand away. "Craig! What are you doing? I'm your mother for Chrissake!" 

He squeezed my fingers tighter around his shaft and started to move my hand up and down its length. "Please Mom, I have to. You're so fucking sexy I can't help it. Please do this for me. Please." I had to admit his tool felt so snug in my palm, and what he was doing to my tits was sensational, and against my better judgement I lost my will to resist.

"You know this is so wrong on so many levels." I told him, grasping his shaft firmly. "Just this once and never again, understand?"

"OK Mom." he panted, releasing my hand as I began to stroke. He watched my fist for a few seconds, then tugged at the belt of my robe, but I pushed his hand away.

"No Craig, this is bad enough as it is. I can't let you go any farther."

"Please Mom, let me see your pussy." I shook my head vehemently, and he looked at me pleadingly. "Please Mom, it'll make me cum quicker."

I sighed in capitulation. "OK, but only if you promise not to touch." Even as I said it I knew I was asking him not to do what I suspected I secretly wanted him to do, and that if he tried I would do nothing to stop him.

He grinned in delight and opened my robe exposing the whole front of my body. Pushing my knees apart he stared at my hairless slit. "God Mom, that's fucking beautiful!" he gasped. I was so horny by now that I no longer had the will to prevent him doing anything he wanted, and I moved my hand faster in a desperate bit to stave off the inevitable, to avoid crossing that line into forbidden territory. To my immense relief, he tensed and a long string of thick cum shot out across my belly. Not trusting myself to speak, I rose from the couch and headed for the door. "Mom .....?" 

I turned and held up my hand to silence him. "No Craig, don't say a word. You know what we did was completely wrong, and it must never happen again, understand?" He nodded reluctantly, and I turned on my heel and hurried to my room, where for almost an hour I pounded my pussy with my dildo until I shuddered into satisfied release. I remained in my room for the rest of the afternoon, alternately cursing myself for letting things go so far, and at the same time regretting that I hadn't gone all the way. Although I was now glad I hadn't completely crossed the line, and was more determined than ever not to, I was acutely aware that at the time I had been fervently wishing my son's hard cock was in my cunt instead of in my hand.

It was coming up to five thirty when I dressed and emerged from my room. Craig was sitting on the couch watching TV, and unable to look him in the eye I held out my hand. "Where are the keys? I need to do some shopping and sort my head out."

He thumbed the remote to turn off the television. "OK, I might as well tag along, and we can have dinner while we're out." I really didn't want company but it would have seemed petty to refuse, so I merely nodded agreement. What had happened had been more my fault than his, because I had flaunted myself and deliberately put temptation in his way. Unsure of what to say, but sure of what he was thinking, I sat silently beside him as he drove to the mall. For an hour we wandered around, until at his suggestion we stopped to eat. I picked moodily at a chicken salad, but he kept up a constant stream of inconsequential chatter, and slowly I began to relax. At about eight thirty we headed to the supermarket to pick up some groceries, and by the time we reached the car park it was dark and most of the shoppers had already left. 

After loading our purchases into Henry T, I slid in beside Craig and he turned the key in the ignition. As he nosed slowly forward I felt my eyes drawn to the familiar back seat, and without willing it the memories came flooding back. I stared unseeing out of the window lost in thought, unaware that he was speaking until he laid a hand on my thigh, just above my knee. "Mom?" he said quietly, glancing behind me. I could hear the questioning tone in his voice, and realised we were stopped in a far corner of the almost deserted car park. "Mom?" Now I could not only hear the questioning but I could hear the question. I was painfully conscious of his hand on my leg, and I glanced behind me. 

As it had countless times before, Henry T's rear seat seemed to beckon, drawing me like a needle to a magnet. Everything in me told me I shouldn't, but I stepped out of the car and opened the rear door. Although I knew what might happen, what was likely to happen, I made no attempt to stop him when Craig pushed me backwards on to the seat, and as he slid my panties down my legs I suddenly felt eighteen again, and about to surrender my virginity, but this time to the sinful incestuous embrace of my son. At the touch of his fingers on my clit I screamed out inside my head. 'NO! I mustn't. A mother isn't supposed to do anything like this with her son! It's INCEST!' The dreaded word kept echoing through my head. 'Incest ... INcest ... IN cest ... In ... IN ... IN.' But even as my mind was saying no, my treacherous loins were saying YES, and I freed his cock and guided him to that forbidden place.




Thanks a Million, Henry T



His first thrusts were gentle and probing, but as they became firmer and more insistent, I clutched him to me, rising to meet him. "Fuck me Craig, fuck your mom." I gasped against his mouth. "God I feel so wicked with your hard cock in me. Fuck it's so good. Give me all you've got." Ordinarily I didn't use suck language when Ben fucked me, but given the forbidden nature of what was happening now it didn't seem out of place. The squeaking of the seat springs seemed deafening as my son's rampant muscle drove relentlessly in and out of my wet snatch, and at the onset of my climax I dug my fingers into his back. "Oh fuck Baby, I'm cumming! Oh fuck yes! Fuck my pussy! Fill your mom with cum!" My entire body went into a spasm, as my eager clutching cunt received jolt after jolt of thick creamy love juice from his potent thrusting cock. "Oh Craig Baby." I sighed as he finished pumping. "That was awesome. It felt so good to have your cock pouring your cum inside me, but it was wrong of us." 

He kissed me passionately, and when I pulled away he was smiling. "Why was it wrong Mom? How can something so beautiful possibly be wrong? I've dreamed of fucking you for longer than I can remember, and now that I have I just know it was meant to be." 

"I don't know Craig. I only know we got carried away and crossed the line. I think we'd better go home now." I stayed in the back seat on the way home, feeling his cum oozing from my still tingling pussy. Despite what I had said, inwardly I agreed with him. Regardless of what others might say, when my son was fucking me nothing had ever felt more right.

When we arrived home I offered no protest or resistance when he led me directly to the bedroom and undressed me, before removing his own clothes and lying beside me. I lay quietly with my eyes closed as he explored my body, kissing where his fingers led him, sucking gently at first, then more urgently on my puckered nipples and moving inexorably downwards until his mouth covered my hairless mound. I drew in a sharp breath, lifting to meet him as his tongue probed deep into my cum filled cunt. Suddenly I pushed him away and flipped over with my bottom raised. "Fuck me Craig. Put your cock in and fuck me."

The instant he entered me spears of orgasmic delight radiated through every cell of my body, and I pushed back to match him stroke for wonderful stroke. The air was filled with my moans and the exotic scent of my arousal, as my son's wonderful tool plundered every hidden crevice of my pouting puffed up pussy, and his fingers shot sparks through my nipples. 

"I'm going to cum again Mom!" he gasped. "I'm going to fill your cunt again!"

"NO, Craig, NO!" I begged, pulling away and turning to face him. His look of dismay changed to one of ecstasy when I seized his shaft and fed its slippery length between my lips, gulping as his thick juices cascaded into my mouth and slid down my convulsing throat. 

Physically and emotionally drained, I lay contentedly in my son's strong embrace, going over the day's events in my mind. Whilst there was no certainty that I could have resisted temptation indefinitely, I was convinced that the hypnotic lure of a certain battered old Ford had been the catalyst, and that the worn old rear seat of Henry T would see a lot more wear in the days and years ahead.



Thanks Be



THE FIRST GLIMPSE I ever had of the girl was her naked arse.

I'd been leading Wilful, my donkey, round the side of the barn when I heard smothered squeals and the flunk of a hand striking bare flesh. Trim, round and reddened from the impact of the farmer's hand it pointed solidly toward the evening sky as he held her bent over a saw-horse; legs spread, her long skirts pulled up over her head.

'That'll teach you to play with yourself. 'Tis an obscenity and an offence against God's word. No girl in my house will follow Satan's ways.'

I coughed loudly. 

Startled the farmer lifted his head, saw me, and rapidly pulled the girl's skirts back down to cover her tormented cheeks with those fat labia poking provocatively below. 'What do you want? This is private land,' he growled.

'I'm hiking south and need somewhere to rest for the night and water my donkey. I wondered if I could spend the night in your barn.'

'I'll have no loafers and vagrants on my farm. The Lord God gave us hands and feet to labour and feed ourselves, not to bum around looking for unearned handouts.'

'Oh, I'll repay you. I'm not some tramp expecting a free lunch. I'm an artist, a painter. I've been travelling around looking for ideas from the country.' In one way I wasn't that concerned whether he said yea or nay, though in another I didn't want to be forced to push on too far into the summer evening. 

While he considered he glanced at the girl, 'You get back to the other two and attend to your chores.'

I threw him the sweetener, 'I'll do a drawing of you and your family in return for a bit of supper and your letting me stay overnight.'

After a moment's thought he shouted after the girl, 'Thanksbe! Find the twins and get yourselves back here. No dilly dallying.' Then he looked at me; suspicious. 'I'm calling your bluff, Mister. Make a good likeness of me and my three and you can stay in the barn. Just the barn, mind. Don't want you nowhere near my house, or my girls. If you don't produce, you're on your way with my boot up your backside.'

I started to unstrap one of the panniers on Wilful to get my sketchpad. 'Just the four of you?'

He took my meaning. 'Just the four. No business of your's where their mothers be.'

Keep him talking, I decided. 'Unusual name, Thanksbe. Don't think I've come across it before.'

'Damn fool notion of her mother. Seems she had trouble birthing the kid and was convinced she was a goner. When the kid pulled through she said, "Thanks be to the Lord". And that's what she called her.'

The girl - who looked to be in her late teens, with caramel toned skin and long, wavy, black hair brushing the waist of a drab brown dress - returned followed by two somewhat older, pale, lumpy looking blondes.

I looked round for some way of posing them. 'Why don't you lean against that fence,' I suggested. 'Thanksbe can sit at your feet and the other two can stand behind you, one on each side.'

He turned to them, 'You heard what the man said. Thanksbe come here. Honesty and Temperance get in the paddock, behind the rail. '

A full painting can take considerable time and effort, but it doesn't take me long to dash off a quick sketch. A talent I developed while convalescing. Giving it a final check before passing it over for the farmer's consideration I saw I'd drawn him and the twins a touch pedestrian and stereotypical, but the girl Thanksbe's gamine features fair leapt off the page in a way that was far beyond my usual standard. I made a mental note to think later about why.

He took the sketch from me and studied it suspiciously. 'You've got the gift. Don't know whether it comes from the Man, or from the Devil, but my word is my word. You can stay the night, but I want you gone in the morning.'

'Thank you,' I said, leading Wilful into the barn and unbuckling his panniers.

Later, when one of the blondes brought me a dish of rather stringy chicken casserole, I tried engaging her in conversation. But she was monosyllabic, to say the least, and confirmed my impression that the twins were somewhat retarded. Well, not my problem, I'd be on my way, come the morrow.

IT WAS DARK and I was reading by the light of a battery lantern that I carry when there was a quiet rustling at the threshold.

'Who's there?' I called.

'Ssh. Not so loud, please, mister.' It was that Thanksbe.

'Somehow I don't think your father would approve of you being here right now,' I said.

She crept into the lamplight. 'He'd beat me terrible.'

'Then why have you come?'

'Please mister. Take me with you in the morning. Please.'

'But won't he come after you?'

'Yes. But if we go early enough we can be out of sight and he won't be able to use his shotgun.'

'Whoa back! That's getting serious. You mean he'd shoot you?'

'Not me - I think. But he'd surely have a go at you.'

I'm cautious around firearms - I've seen what they can do. I'd been shot at while in the army; before I was so badly injured. But that was duty to King and Country. To risk life and limb for some skirt, however neat and nubile, was a horse of a different colour.

'Why don't you just walk out?'

'He'd never let me, and how would I know where to go?'

'Why is it so vital that you leave?' I was talking around the problem, looking for a way to reject her that wouldn't hurt too badly.

'He says it's time he got to know me.'

Now I was confused. 'What do you mean. Surely he knows you. He's your father?

'No, not in that way. Like it says in the Good Book. He says that following my eighteenth birthday - that's the day after tomorrow - he'll get to know me as he does one of the twins most every night.'

The penny dropped. 'You mean as it says in the Bible - and Adam came to know Eve? Meaning he fucked her.'

'What's fucked? Mother didn't teach me that word.'

'To have sex with. Didn't you learn that at school?'

'Didn't go to school. Mother taught us here at home.'

She was rousing my curiosity, drawing me in. 'What about the twins?'

'Mother taught them as well. They were only four or five when their mother left. Then Father took my mother and me in.'

'Then he isn't your true father?'

'No. Don't know who was. Mother once said I was a mistake that stopped her earning proper.'

'How old were you?'

'Well, the twins are three, four years older than me, and mother said they was about five when we came. So I reckon I was about one or one-and-half.'

'So what happened to your mother?'

'Why, 'bout three years back she took sick. Wanted to go into town and see a doctor but Father wouldn't let her until it was too late. So she died.' Her head dropped and I could see the glint of tears.

I needed to change the subject, I'd almost been interrogating her. 'Do I understand you to say that your father, who's not your real father, has sex with the twins?'

'Yes. He makes one of them sleep in his bed most every night.'

'But if he's truly their father then that's incest. It's against the law.'

'Is it?'

'Yes. Didn't your mother teach you that?'

'Well, she taught me to figure and to read the Good Book and the newspaper. Used to like reading the newspaper, but we don't have it no more now that mother's gone.'

'What about when you go shopping?'

'Never go now.'

'Where do you go?'

'Just to church in town on Sundays; sometimes. That's why I don't know where I'd go if I just left.'

We were back with the problem again. Having myself been firmly down and out when the medics didn't think I'd recover from my injuries I've become something of a sucker for strays and lost souls. So now I found I couldn't bring myself to just say "no". At least so I told myself. Later I decided it was more likely because she was an attractive, nubile young woman and my first instinct as a man was to shelter and protect her.

'Give me a moment to think,' I said, reaching for my map. I'd come down the road from the north and it seemed there was a small town about three miles further on. 'What's between here and Belton. Houses, fields, woods?'

'Couple more of our fields then wood for the rest of the way.'

'The map shows the road goes over a stream about half way along.'

'That be Lowe Bridge.'

'Right. You get yourself down there good and early. Hide in the trees until you see me come by. If It's safe I'll wave for you to come out and join me.' 

'Thanks, mister. What if it's not right?'

'Stay put and I'll come back as soon as I can. Oh, and call me Ralph. I'll call you Bea. And the donkey is Wilful - by name and nature.'

THE NEXT MORNING I procrastinated somewhat in my departure as I wanted the farmer to see me leave alone. One of my better ideas for I had barely got Wilful loaded than he appeared, shotgun in hand, demanding to know where his Thanksbe was. 

I shrugged my shoulders, 'How should I know? She's your girl. Haven't seen her since last evening.' Semantically correct even if not absolutely true, though he wasn't to know that.

Suspiciously he watched Wilful and me out of the gate and onto the highway where we ambled along in no particular hurry. Some twenty minutes later he stuttered past in an old jalopy, heading toward the town, which was my signal to slow even further.

Another quarter-of-an-hour and we reached the stone bridge. The farmer not having returned I crossed the stream and pulled off the road where a path ran alongside the water and into the trees. Leaving Wilful to crop the grass I strolled up the track hoping a casually observer would think I was looking for a spot to relieve myself. In fact I was searching for the girl.

Thirty yards into the trees and she appeared. Palms facing, I made a pushing gesture, 'Keep out of sight. Your stepfather passed me in a car. We'll wait until he comes back.'

She stepped back into shadows. 'There's a spot further up where your donkey could drink. We could wait there.' I looked doubtful, but she added, 'We shouldn't be noticed from the road.'

'Good idea.' I wandered back and collected Wilful.

Once he was settled, searching out clumps of grass, I sat on a fallen tree trunk and inspected her. Same drab dress, bare feet, and long shiny hair. 'What did you bring with you?'

'Only a picture of Mother.' She reached into the top of her dress and pulled an oval locket from the deep cleft between her breasts. Carefully opening it she held it for me to look. The photo was of a woman with wide eyes, high cheekbones and a short, straight nose that might well have been of Bea herself, except for the light skin.

'No clothes?'

'Not got any worth bringing.'

'Well, I had thought to disguise you for when we go through the town. Now I'm not sure how. Still, let's experiment a bit.' 

I rummaged through my pack and found the old lumberjack's shirt and spare pair of jeans I kept in case I got caught in a downpour. 'Try these on.'

Grasping her dress by the hem, she swiftly pulled it over her head. Underneath she was naked. 

I turned away. But not before noticing that this lithe urchin was in truth a slim waisted young woman, exuding all the nubile charms that are a feature of an eighteen year old, with a pair of full, shapely breasts, their nipples like chocolate kisses against her caramel skin. Not oversize boobs to be sure, but more than enough to satisfy all but the most gluttonous of men. I felt sure they had yet to feel a bra, or a male hand.

In a quiet voice she said, 'Oh, you can look. I'm a woman like any other.'

'Who taught you that?'

'Mother used to say that we are all made the same, and there is nothing dirty in showing the body God gave you.'

'Perhaps. But did she not also say it's better not to display it to men? It can cause them to act in ways you may dislike.'

'Oh, can it? Are you saying that just because you've seen all of me, you're lusting to know me?' Startled I said nothing. 'Though I wouldn't mind you knowing me,' she added, pensively. 'You're kind. Not like Father.'

What had I taken on? What was I going to do with this odd mixture of naivety and astuteness? Cowardly, or merely cautious, I postponed the issue. 

'Probably be very nice having sex with you,' I told her. 'Unfortunately I haven't been able to please a woman since I was shot. Doctors say there's nothing physically wrong and I'll get the use of my manhood back sometime. However that was four years ago and I'm still waiting.' 

I always say shot to save explanations. Actually, it was shrapnel damage, mainly in and around the belly, from my partner stepping on a land mine. Since when, though I had often felt the urge for a woman, my tool had signally failed to rise to the occasion. At first I had reasoned it was merely because it hadn't received the right stimulation, but recently I had come to suspect it could be that paradox: failure caused by fear of failure.

'Where were you shot?'

I pretended to misunderstand. 'Iraq. Right, let me see how these clothes fit.'

The shirt sleeves were way too long, but they could be rolled. It was the tightness and strain across the upper buttons, and the way the perfect orbs of her young boobs were outlined, their hard points clearly manifest, which gave me doubts. Still they would only have to hold for a few hours. 

The pants hung almost stylishly low on rounded hips but, even with her long legs, the bottoms still crinkled badly, bringing a smile to my lips.

'Give the pants back,' I commanded, feeling in my bag for the hunting knife I carry. 

Innocently she whipped them off, again giving me a clear view of a dark muff above those puffy nether lips. I told myself it was fortunate that, being an artist, I was used to looking at things as they truly were, without the distorting mask of emotions to distract me.

It took but a moment to amputate the legs of the jeans well above the knee, turning them into hot pants. I had hoped to make her look boyish, at least from a distance, but the silhouette, both from the side and back, shouted that she was a woman; and a very shapely one at that.

One last ploy occurred to me. 'Let's crop your hair. Hopefully then no one will recognize you.'

Hands being an artist's tools I carry a pair of nail scissors in my wash bag. Not the easiest implements for cutting hair, and it seemed a pity to hack away those long tresses, but needs must and I had soon given her a short, spiky style. 

If she really went so little into town I doubted the locals would know her; that is if they put her light chocolate colouring down to being deeply sun-tanned. Thus it only remained for us to avoid her stepfather.

'That's the best I can do. Now we'll just have to hope.' 

She whirled around a few times. 'Wish there were a mirror, so I could see for myself.'

'I've got one I use for shaving. On those days when I bother.'

She had me hold it while she postured, trying to get a full view. 'Is that really me? I look quite good.' It must be instinctive. Maroon a girl alone on a desert isle and she'd still be concerned about her hairdo and the size of her bust.

She kicked the ground with a dirty toe and I realised there was still the problem of footwear. 'Don't you have any shoes?'

'Nah. Father always said we couldn't afford them. Bit cold in the winter but I can do without now.'

'I hope so. Come, sit here and let me measure you. If I see anything suitable I'll try and requisition them.'

What to measure her with. Grasping her slim ankle I spread my other hand and laid it flat on the sole of her foot. She giggled slightly at the absurdity of my idea. It wasn't so good, for while my hands are large and her feet are small it wasn't going to be accurate enough when I came to examine a pair of shoes or trainers. Still there's one thing an artist is never without; a brush or pencil. I found an old brush in my paint box and quickly marked both the length and breadth along the handle.

I was glad when I'd finished. I'd been very conscious of the soft smoothness of the skin my hand had been grasping.

ALL THIS WHILE I'd been keeping half an eye on the bit of road I could see through the trees. Up to now the traffic had been sparse with not a sight of the farmer returning from town. 'Stay here and keep back where you can't be seen. I'm going to keep watch by the road. We'll move on when I think it's safe.'

Sketch book in hand I wandered back to the bridge and occupied myself making rough studies of it from different angles. A pretty mundane subject, so it was fortunate that I only had to fill fifteen minutes or so before the jalopy returned and carried on past me towards the farm. I gave it another five minutes to make sure then called for her to bring Wilful and join me.

The delay had been useful in another way since, while drawing, it had occurred to me to wonder why I should keep to my plan of following the road round the lower edges of the moor. If my memory served me there was an ancient drover's route from here, straight up and across the heath. 

A quick check of the map showed that a bridle way started at the near edge of the town and ran in the right direction to connect with a network of paths that went the whole forty miles or so until re-joining the main road a short distance from my cottage on the coast. Useless for cars, but fine for Wilful and me. At my usual leisurely pace, with stops to make the odd sketch, I could reckon on it taking nearly three days; at least. With no convenient farms at which to plead for shelter it would mean having to risk the weather, but today was sunny. I'd just have to hope it stayed that way.

I'd - no, we'd - have to eat; did I have enough for two? A quick check of Wilful's panniers showed I didn't. That meant a delay to pick up some extra supplies.

I explained my idea to Bea as we briskly, or as briskly as a lazy donkey allowed, continued down the road. 'I'll have to go into town and buy a few bits and pieces,' I told her. 'You start along the path and I'll catch you up when I can.'

She frowned. 'I'd sooner come with you.'

I realised that underneath her apparent assurance she was nervous and scared that I might be going to abandon her and carry straight on along the highway.

'No, too risky. Someone just might recognise you. Take Wilful with you. Just keep him moving while I slip into town and I'll follow as soon as I can. The map doesn't show any turnings for several miles so you shouldn't get lost.'

She thought a moment before nodding, seemingly reassured by being trusted with my donkey. 

Just then we rounded a bend and came upon the bridle way. Broad and rutted from centuries of hooves it ran straight up into the trees, its surface sprinkled with a layer of last year's leaves. I turned Wilful into it and giving him a warning slap on the rump set him ambling along, then watched for several moments as they moved slowly up the path. At that pace they wouldn't get far. I'd have no trouble catching up.

Walking swiftly, I carried on down the road which curved to the left. First I came to a couple of late Georgian houses hiding behind high brick boundary walls. Then a short terrace of small cottages, a riot of colourful blooms filling their front gardens, followed by a thatched pub - The Carter's Halt - and finally, as the road descended, a raised pavement with several bigger houses converted to small shops. Mostly they catered to trippers, of which there were few about this early in the day, but further along was a grocers, which should contain all our needs.

As I passed the tourist traps, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the windows. With my long locks and straggly beard I looked a tramp. It wasn't surprising the farmer had nearly thrown me off his land, but what was mystifying was how the girl had decided to trust me. A sign of her desperation, or maybe she could see behind the hair. A couple of shops along I came on a barber's and decided that I could afford the time to get a proper shave and haircut.




Thanks Be



When I opened the door I got a stony look that said the rotund proprietor didn't want the custom of my sort, however the sight of a note or two settled the matter and I was soon seated. As he started to mix the lather for my shave, I gave him my usual spiel about being a wandering artist. This further reassured him and he became as talkative as his trade usually are.

'Stayed up the road at a farm last night. Farmer had three girls, but no wife around,' I said.

'That would be Caleb Parkin's place.'

'He seemed a bit religious.'

'Understatement, but it's mostly come on since he lost his second woman. He was always a steady churchman but he's really gone over the top since she died a couple-a-three years back.'

'Second, what happened to the first?'

'Gave him the older two . . . The twins . . . Turned out they weren't right in the head. Don't know what happened but she up and walked out on them all. Year or so later the other one arrived.

'What was she? Housekeeper? Single parent? Divorcee?'

'Never did rightly know. She appeared one day with that half-breed girl she called Thanksbe. Little thing she was then; still in a kiddie-cart. Some said the woman, Grace she were named, was a distant relative. Some that she were running away from an abusive husband, and a few that thought themselves better than her, that she was a whore he had rescued.'

'Seemed an odd set-up.'

'Aye, you can say that. The Social checked on them several times but couldn't find any reason to interfere. At least not till the woman died, but by then the girls were all too old.' 

There wasn't much more to be learnt from him so, some half-an-hour later, I left looking rather more like a decent, if poverty stricken, member of society. I was glad he'd confirmed what the girl had told me. It wasn't that I distrusted her, but life has taught me not to be naive. People tend to see and reshape things the way they want them to be. 

Next the grocers. They might not have the variety of a big supermarket but they provided the staples. A loaf, some cheese, tea (though if necessary we could always gather some herb or other and make an infusion) and a bottle of milk; some oatmeal for breakfast porridge and a collection of vegetables for stewing. Not your gourmet diet but tolerable for camping, particularly for someone like me who, although not a full vegetarian, rarely eats meat. 

Returning up the road, I noticed a shop displaying some clothing among the tawdry souvenirs. A hasty rummage revealed a dusty pair of trainers that should fit Bea and a box of odd, scarlet, baseball-come-yachting caps carrying various labels. I took one labelled "Captain" for myself and another saying "Middy" for Bea.

THE SUN NOW BEING WELL UP it was becoming hot as I set out after Wilful and the girl. The visit to the barber's had kept me somewhat longer than I had anticipated so I hurried through the strolling tourists that were beginning to obstruct the pavement. In my rush I nearly tripped over the lead of a boisterous young dog dragging its elderly owner behind.

It was some half an hour before I caught sight of them far up the track, where it still climbed through the trees. Fortunately Wilful had taken advantage of the absence of the pack leader, me, to follow his own devices and meander along at a snail's pace or I might have despaired of ever catching them before the track divided. 

'I tried to make him move faster but he just ignores me,' Bea complained.

'Yes, he will if he thinks he can get away with it,' I said, noting with pleasure that she had unbuttoned the shirt and knotted the tails under her breasts, leaving her slim waist bare. 'Give it time and he may improve.'

She watched me as I stowed my purchases. The caps I hid for later, but the trainers I gave her. It seemed I'd got the size right and she would be safe from the rocky ground we would meet as we got higher.

'I like you without the whiskers, and you've done something to your hair,' she said as we set off again. 'You look younger and proper handsome.'

Momentarily I was nonplussed. 'Thanks for the flattery but you're pretty enough to get by without it.'

She grinned, 'No, I meant it. I've always dreamt of being carried off by a good looking knight in shining armour.'

'And you're too trusting. How do you know I'm not taking you to my lair to have my evil way with you?'

'Oh, goody. Let's go.' She was bright and playful now she was away from that farm.

Was that what I was really doing? Some unconscious motive hidden in the depths of my psyche. No! I tried to pass it off with a light remark, 'Thanks, but I'll take a rain check.' 

Before my injury I wouldn't have hesitated to make a play for that body, blessed as it was with the ripe contours of young maidenhood. Then I'd had a bit of a reputation as a Jack-the-Lad and took whatever pussy came my way without much discrimination. But now I managed to convince myself I wasn't interested in her sexually, I was just being a good Samaritan; that if I had been looking for a woman it would have been for one with experience, one who could also offer kindness, companionship and shared interests.

In no great hurry, we strolled up the path. As we climbed the trees gave way to low bushes and then to rolling, heather covered hills. The upper reaches of the stream where earlier we had met appeared and paralleled the path, which was becoming stony.

It didn't take long for us to fall into a routine. Bea and Wilful seemed to take to each other and mostly she led him sedately along the path allowing me to pause and sketch some detail that caught my eye and then hurry after them. Though occasionally a surfeit of energy had her skipping ahead, her tight boyish buttocks swaying and her boobs merrily bouncing. 

While conversation was inevitably spasmodic, it became clear she was of an enquiring nature with a good mind just waiting to be cultivated. She seemed to be missing all the basic, formal, school type knowledge, yet to have a good grasp of social affairs and attitudes. Albeit she was somewhat behind the times with current events and many of her opinions were distorted from having no alternative to counter the farmer's bigoted opinions. Still exposure to other viewpoints would soon lead her to change and form her own ideas. 

BY MID-DAY we were well into the heath, the wide vistas dotted with odd outcroppings of stone. Passing a tall menhir, I called a halt for a drink and a light meal. After eating, she disappeared into a fold in the ground to attend to a call of nature and I stretched out on a smooth rock intending to have a short nap in the hot, noonday sun.

At first it seemed distant, and then it became clearer; a quiet, melodious humming. Lazily I lifted an eyelid seek the cause, only to behold a scene from my phantasies. A beautiful, nude woman - nay a naiad - was dancing round the menhir. Arms sweeping the turf then lifted to worship the sun; hips rolling and swaying; breasts swinging and shaking. Was I dreaming? 

Then I noticed her capering feet were shod in the trainers I had bought in the village. It was Bea! This time I did not look away but studied the curves of her fully exposed long legs, hourglass hips and proud breasts. After several enjoyable minutes I sat up, I reached for my sketch book and, as she faced me, arms lifted to the sky, barked, 'Hold it there!'

Surprised she stopped for a moment. 'Keep still, while I draw you,' I instructed. 

It didn't take more than a moment; the lines seemed to appear on the paper without any effort on my part. It was arguably the finest thing I had ever done. The image seemed to live and breathe, to offer its naked femininity to any man blessed enough to grasp it.

Surprised at myself I almost ripped the paper in my eagerness to turn to another blank sheet and to try again; to prove it wasn't a fluke. Within ten minutes I had dashed off some half-a-dozen sketches. All with that same quality as the first. It seemed I was possessed, I wanted to go on drawing and drawing. I had found a muse beyond any I had thought possible.

At last, reason forced its way to my conscious. 'Right. Enough for now. Better put some clothes on,' I said.

'Why?'

'Well someone just might come along.' It sounded feeble even to me.

She grinned. 'You're just an old-fashioned fogy . . . Can I see?' She held her hand out toward my sketchpad.

'Not so much of the old, child.'

While I collected Wilful and prepared to carry on along the path she dressed and studied my drawings.

'They're brilliant,' she said. 'Is that really me?'

'Well, it's how you appear to me.'

She was thoughtful for several minutes as we started along the path, then said, 'How did you come to be an artist?' 

'Interesting question . . . I didn't deliberately set out to be one. I used to draw a bit at school and was reckoned quite gifted, but I never took it seriously - sport was the big thing. Then, after I was injured, I did some sketching as a form of therapy - a way to fill the hours in hospital.'

'Were you there a long time?'

'What with convalescence, about a year . . . Anyway, at first I didn't consider it as a job. I used to be a sociable sort of guy and looked upon painters as loners. But since I was obviously in need of a career change, it was suggested I became an illustrator or technical draughtsman. Which I did. I managed to stick it for about six months.'

'So what happened.'

'Found it wasn't satisfying enough. Somehow I'd changed inside. I wanted to show people the reality I saw. That meant I had to try to become a true artist instead of a craftsman. Fortunately I've sufficient aptitude to convey something of my ideas.'

'So you've got lots of money.'

'I wish. No, I sell just enough to get by, provided I live simply.'

That seemed to satisfy her curiosity and we carried along in companionable silence for most of the afternoon.

THERE BEING NO LIKELIHOOD of a sheltering farm or croft meant we would have to sleep under the stars for at least the next two nights and, if we tarried, possibly a third. So I decided that, while the weather remained warm and dry, we should continue well into the evening, for who knew what the morrow would bring. Thus the sun was well below the horizon before I called a halt at a spot where there was a slight depression in the ground; a dip that would give a little protection from any breeze that might develop.

It was fully night by the time I'd spread the ground sheet and we had eaten. The sleeping bag I unrolled for Bea - the spare blanket would suffice for me; I was inured to sleeping rough. Fortuitously a full moon gave enough light for me to see my sketch pad, if I peered, so I suggested my muse pose for me again.

Unhesitatingly she peeled off her shirt, allowing those beautiful, perfectly curved handfuls, with their long, hard-pointed nipples, to bounce briefly in celebration of their freedom. A treat for my eyes.

She grinned, 'Do you want all of me?'

Did she really mean that? Surely not! Without thinking I said, 'Of course. You're too beautiful to leave anything hidden.'

She blushed at my compliment and I nearly lost the supposed dispassionate regard of the artist for his subject. Quickly I added, 'But it's up to you.'

Without further ado she pushed off her trainers and slid the mutilated jeans down her legs. 

Posing came naturally to her as, following my gestures she knelt, sat, lay; leant back, forwards, and to the side. The moonlight created mysterious shadows and pools of darkness which while obscuring, encouraged one to imagine those delectable tits and pussy. 

Formal figure drawing was something that I had rarely attempted and it should have strained my technique, but once more the images seemed to spontaneously emerge from the paper. After half-an-hour I sensed she was becoming tired so called a halt and suggested we sleep.

A last quick stretch of her ripe young maidenhood, which nearly undid my resolve to look upon her solely as a model, and she slithered into the sleeping bag remarking, 'You could get both of us in here.'

'I know. It's a double. I hate to feel constricted.'

'Why don't you join me.'

'Perhaps, but it would lead to other things. Which wouldn't be right.'

'Spoil sport.' 

LATER, LYING BACK, my arms supporting my head, I gazed up at the stars and considered my reaction to Bea. What was it about her that affected me so much? For, deny it as I might, I finally had to admit to myself that she did affect me. Why else was I putting myself out to help her? I'm quite social, but I was helping her far more than I would anyone else. Why? Because she was so beautiful? In another girl I would have said she was deliberately leading me on, trying to arouse me, but she was such a mix, so unworldly in some things, yet down to earth in others, that she clearly had no idea what she was doing to me. 

Perhaps I should take a chance; see if my ability to get an erection had returned. But, what if it had? Great for my future pleasure but with her could it be sex without obligation? Could I do that to her? Was she ready for that? My former comrades-in-arms wouldn't have hesitated; they'd have enjoyed that nubile body as of right. And yet, deep down, I knew that with her it had to be something more meaningful or it was wrong. 

And there were my sketches. Mainly I was into landscapes; people did not interest me that much as an artist, yet not only the studies I had made, but just about every sketch I had done that day included her in it somewhere. Also my talent, such as it was, seemed to have improved out of all recognition when I was drawing her.

As I drifted toward sleep I saw a picture take shape before me in the gloom. I could almost touch it. I would paint it life size. The nude, ancient watcher seated in shadow; his beard white; the hands on his stick gnarled and liver marked. The girl outside the window, Bea, dancing naked in strong sunlight. A complete departure for me but a painting I was burning to attempt.

I AWOKE TO A WARM, somewhat humid day, the outline of the picture still before me, the details firm. More than a superficial picture of a voyeur, a statement about life; a contrast of hoary age with nubile youth and beauty. Then my vision expanded. What about a pair of pictures? The second a reversal - with the firm fleshed maiden contemplating a wrinkled old woman seated, dreaming in the sun. I could see the details and the style, which should be that of a Vermeer. 

I reached for the sketches I had made of Bea. Several would serve my purpose, though it would be even better if I could get her to model for me in my studio. But what of the ancient mariner? Wesley perhaps - a loudly garrulous old fisherman with a flowing white beard who often regaled my local hostelry with his opinions. He would be ideal if I could persuade him. 

Gripped by a creative fervour I threw back the blanket and set out to prepare for the coming day; a day when I intended to press on and get far as possible toward my cottage. The sooner I was back in my studio, the sooner I could start painting.

By the time I'd finished my ablutions, cooked a pan of porridge and made some tea, the slight mist had burnt off. As we sat finishing our frugal repast I dug out the hats that I had bought the previous morning.

'Happy birthday,' I said, giving Bea her's. 'It's not much, but all I could get at short notice.'

'Oh! . . Thanks . . . How did you know it was my birthday?'

'You told me, in the barn. You said you would come of age on Tuesday. Well it's Tuesday today.'

She sat still, not knowing what to say. Then, her eyes full of tears, she leaned forward and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. 

'I haven't had a present since Mother died.' She brushed water from her eyes before turning the hat round in her hands. 'What does "Middy" mean.'

I put my cap on. 'See where mine says, "Captain", that labels me as the boss of the boat. Your "Middy" is short for "Midshipman". I suppose in this day and age someone will say that should be "Midshipgirl" or "Midship-person". Anyway, that's what they call a cadet officer on a ship. So, I'm the boss and you're the trainee. When we find a boat.'

She smiled; happy, 'Aye, Aye, Captain.'

We set off again, our red hats vivid splashes of colour in the drab landscape. 

AS THE MORNING PROGRESSED a thin veil of high level cirrus spread across the sky followed by some patchy cumulus. By midday a slow build-up had begun and the small clouds had become large ones complete with the typical anvil shaped tops of cumulo-nimbus thunder clouds. A cold front was bringing cooler air over hot ground. I was glad we were pushing on as fast as we could, not stopping to do any sketching. However, to be truthful, there wasn't much of artistic interest, just a rolling vista of heather cloaked moors. 

Mid afternoon brought a strong scent of rain in the air and I could hear thunder in the distance, we would be lucky to avoid a drenching. I've been caught out in the past and find there is little that is as miserable as trudging along cold and wet to the skin. Nor, having given my emergency change of clothes to Bea, would there be any real prospect of getting dry again. So, although it was still reasonably warm, with little hope of proper shelter we would be at some risk of exposure. It was time to start looking for a likely spot to camp and protect ourselves as best we could.

Coming over a slight rise I saw, about a mile ahead, what appeared to be an old cottage built from the local granite boulders. That might be the answer.

When I tried to hurry him Wilful, of course, took it into his head to be just that and to slow even more. Still, about half-an-hour later, under a darkening, grey flannel sky, we came up to the building only to find it was little more than the tumble-down walls of what had originally been a small two-room croft. 

It was apparent others had used it as a temporary camp site, for fallen stones had been cleared to the edges and the level floors were soft with invading grass. The roof, which had probably been of thatch, had long gone, but at least most of the walls remained to protect us from the rising wind and I should be able to lash-up a temporary covering from the plastic ground sheet I carried. Thankful at having arrived before the rain I unloaded Wilful and allocated him one of the rooms. 

I was too optimistic. There was a brief flurry and the rain started as I stretched my sheet across one corner of the second room and began weighting it to the top of the walls with loose blocks. It was just a light shower at first, but the thunder was rapidly coming closer. It was going to be bad. 

Quickly I had the sheet roughly positioned and we sheltered below as the first heavy drops started spattering the top, the water flowing out over the walls. Fine at first, but the downpour was increasing and the blustery wind was already lifting our covering, which clearly wasn't going to hold. We needed more stones to weight it down.

Reluctant as I was to venture out and have my clothes saturated it was obviously unavoidable. So, deciding skin could be dried more easily than cloth, I stripped. Carefully I lay my shirt and jeans in a dry spot before venturing forth in my Y-fronts to pile heavier blocks around the edges of the material. 

By now the wind was chill and the rain almost tropical, huge drops hitting the ground in big splashes. I was soon dripping as I fought to stretch and weight the recalcitrant ground sheet in place. Pausing to brush my eyes, I became aware of a pale brown shape, clad in only a sheen of water, working round the other wall. Bea had seen the problem and had come to help. A beautiful, naked nymph, she was using her wiry strength to heave stones into place with more enthusiasm than skill. 

'That'll do,' I shouted at last and bolted back under the reinforced cover.




Thanks Be



Bea followed me in time to catch the towel, fortunately a large one, I had wrenched from a pannier. 'Dry yourself while I get the stove going and a kettle on,' I commanded, resolutely keeping my back to her.

I was very aware of her moving behind me as I made a warming brew. Then she touched me on the shoulder.

'I've tried not to make it too wet,' she said, pushing the towel in my hand.

'Thanks,' I started to roughly dry myself.

My Y-fronts being saturated I had to shed them, still keeping carefully turned away from her. All in vain, for I'd removed most of the moisture and was rubbing my hair when, herself still naked, she moved round in front of me. 

Staring down she pointed to the scars running across my flat belly and thighs and asked. 'May I touch?'

What to say? What to do? Taken aback I nodded, 'Yes, it isn't painful.'

Softly, her fingertips lightly fluttering, she pensively traced the puckered skin. Her chest was close to mine and glancing down all I could see were two firm, young breasts, naked and quivering gently in the gloom, inviting attention from my hands. Suddenly my cock was outside my control, standing smartly to attention for the first time since my injury.

'It must have really hurt.' 

I tried to keep my voice level. 'Not at once, I was in shock. But later, yes, there were some painful times.'

'What happened?'

'My partner stepped on a land mine and I caught part of the blast.'

'Careless.'

'Yes. I never did understand how he came to do it. Harry was one of those cautious, by the book, guys. The last person you'd expect to make a mistake like that.' 

Neither of us said anything for a minute or two while her fingers explored lower and lower. Then she raised her head and look into my eyes, 'What was it you called having sex - "flunking"?'

I swallowed and, my voice an octave higher said, 'No, "fucking" from the verb "to fuck".'

'Ah, yes . . . Well it seems you want to fuck me.'

What could I say? Confused, I coughed, then from somewhere came the realisation that if I wanted to keep her trust only the truth would do. Hesitantly I told her, 'Yes, it would be very nice. If it were allowed.'

'Well, you can if you want to.'

I grit my teeth, 'I mustn't, it would be wrong.'

'Why? You've been kind; you saved me from Father. I think I'd rather you were the one to show me what it's like. You're different and if I'm to be some man's woman then I rather think I want to be your woman.'

One hand had strayed and was tentatively stroking my rigid erection.

'No, I'm too old. Maybe not old enough to be your father, but still too old for you.'

'What has your age got to do with anything. On the farm, we used our prize bull until he was no longer capable.'

She was undermining my resolution. 'But I can't. I told you, I haven't been able to please a woman since I was injured.'

There was a catch in her voice; it was the first time I had refused her anything. 'How do I know? All I've seen are the animals on our farm, and they looked just like you do now. Have you tried? Really tried?' She wrapped her hand firmly around me. 'Come, let me see if I can help you.'

The feel of her fingers was making my cock throb. 'Thank you my dear, but how can you? You've never been with a man.'

'I'm not experienced yet, but you forget I was raised on a farm. I'm hardly ignorant about the birds and the bees. Anyway, the twins used to talk about what Father did to them. Let me see if I can cure you. Please, let's try. I do want to fuck with you.'

I felt a need; a desire; an urgency, to pluck this enchanting young flower, to possess her and make her mine. But I knew it was useless, it wasn't right. Anyway I couldn't. Could I? With an effort I managed a cowardly compromise. 'Wait. Let's think this through. We're wet and cold and in need of food and rest. Maybe later, if we both want it, we can try then.'

I could hear the disappointment in her voice, 'If we must. If you think that is what is right.'

'Yes, I do. Now come, my dear, and help me get organised. We can make a hot broth with the last of the vegetables.' 

HOWEVER, I SOON REALISED I was kidding myself. I had been trying not to acknowledge my desire, but it was there in our neglecting to dress again and remaining naked and ready, despite the chill. There in the accidental brushing against each other - in particular her breasts, soft and yielding where they touched my back or roaming hand, inspiring a long-absent, animal need. 

All the incidents and odd feelings of the last two days that I had tried to ignore and deny had come together. I was a male aroused by the magic of this female. My injuries finally permitting, I was going to kiss and caress those divine breasts that brushed past me, was going to enjoy the enchanted land between her legs. 

I was going to take her! 

Now I would discover if my feared inability to service a woman was a self-fulfilling one of being afraid of failure or a genuine disability. However, I persuaded myself that even if I found I couldn't come, it seemed I was stiff enough to pleasure her. To see that she, at least, had the joy of a satisfying climax. To make her a woman.

Suddenly she was in my arms. Oh, she smelt good; clean and fresh and young. I held her tight, my hands stroking that smooth, still damp, coffee-coloured back, cupping those firm butt cheeks.

Her sweet mouth opened under the pressure of my demanding lips to allow my impatient tongue to search for and dance with its mate. My hand came up and, fingers spread, combed through her damp locks. She gave a small, desperate moan and her arms wound around my neck; her flesh firm yet yielding, soft and cool from the rain, moulding tight to mine.

I bore her down onto the soft grass.

My palms took on a life of their own; exploring, stroking and caressing her sweet, nubile body. I pulled my lips away to breathe, then slid them down, the hollow of her neck, her shoulder, her sweet breast; finally, they closed over a dark, turgid nipple. As I sucked, she again softly moaned. 

I felt her legs stir underneath me as she instinctively spread them wide, inviting me in. Lustfully I stroked her thick bush and ran my finger along her innocent furrow. Gently the tip of my tool probed, stretched her wet, swollen lips just a little. 'Does it hurt?' I asked. She just quietly groaned, her nails digging into my back.

Then I was inside her. 

Thrusting her hips up to me, she took me deep, until every inch of my hard length was gripped in the tingling heat of her virgin tunnel. She quivered, impulsively grinding herself against me. 

'Wait. Slowly. Let me show you.' I raised my head and looked into her eyes. Gently I kissed first one, then the other. 

Impatiently her arms came up and pulled my head back down to her breasts. While I sucked each nipple in turn I very slowly withdrew until only my tip was in her velvet grip, then paused a moment before sliding it back into its new home. She trembled as, gradually, I increased my rhythm.

The thunder and lightning now crashing overhead were a counterpoint to my joy. Suddenly I went wild. Again and again I thrust desperately in and out of her magical depths, battering her yielding young body. Automatically her tight, wet cunni was clutching my restored erection as I plunged into her; an inborn, involuntary instinct, urging her muscles to squeeze the seed from out my depths.

Suddenly my balls awoke to their task. The build-up of tension after over four years of abstinence was there. I was whole again and about to erupt. 

'Ahhh,' she cried out, her head thrown back, her eyes tightly shut. She was lost in the joy of the new sensations of her responsive flesh.

A long, throaty groan burst from her. She shuddered. Her inner muscles gripped me extra hard. She climaxed. I should have withdrawn, but it was all too much. I could hardly breathe as once, twice, three times my seed exploded inside her, vanquishing years of frustration. 

Finally, wetly flopping and my chest heaving, I eased out of her and rolled onto my back. Soon, my pulse slowing again, my breathing nearing normal, I whispered, 'So wonderful. Marvellous. Thank you.'

I held up my arms and she slipped between them. Holding her tight I stroked the satin skin of her back; raised my head to kiss her soft cheeks and mouth. Almost overcome with happiness I held her close.

She opened her eyes and stared down at me. 'I never knew it could be like that. . . I . . . I have to ask you something. It's so silly, but I have to.'

'What?'

'Was it as good . . . ' She closed her eyes again, ashamed of the need to ask. 'Was I as good as the women you knew before.'

I kissed her, the top of her head, her eyes, the tip of her nose. 'No.' Her mouth began to droop at the corners, 'Better. The best ever.'

She gave a small sigh of relief, 'Hold me, let me feel your hands. Here,' and she took my fingers and placed them between her legs.

'If that's what pleases you, my darling.' 

I cupped her mound slipping two fingers inside. She arched her hips, pumped against my hand, gave a deep sigh, and then went limp.

SPENT, WE LAY in our makeshift shelter listening to the rain drumming on the ground sheet. As happy as I could ever remember I indulged myself exploring that winsome body and feasting on those divine young breasts; trying, in part, to make up for the years lost since my injury. 

After a while her hand slid down my chest to trace the line of a scar, then went on to explore my equipment. As the soft rub of her fingers roused me back to life again she whispered, 'Nice pizzle.'

'And how many others have you known?'

I could hear her smile. 'Don't need any others. Love this one.'

I contrived a groan. 'Then I suppose we had better give it some more exercise. It's been somewhat out of practice the last few years.'

'Does that make me its personal trainer?'

'Suppose so. Don't see any other applicants around.'

'One condition. You get rid of those bristles.'

I rubbed my chin - she was right, the shave of yesterday morning was a dim memory and my chin was like a scrubbing brush. God knows what I'd been doing to her soft skin. 

'Wait there.' I rolled off her and scrambled to my feet.

A cup of water heated on the camping stove, I dutifully soaped and scraped my jowls smooth. I glanced at her and contemplated the black curls between her thighs. No, that could wait until we had decided on where the future would lead.

Evening was upon us as I finished shaving; the clouds beginning to roll away. Soon only a few dark patches remained to blaze with the dying rays of the sun, leaving the sky a palette oranges and yellows, the walls around us nearly pitch black.

'It's too late, and too wet to carry on tonight,' I said. 'So if we try and get some sleep now we can start first thing in the morning. With any luck we'll get to my place by mid afternoon.'

'Aye, Aye, Captain. But I think you have something else to attend to first.'

'That I do, Middy,' I said, wiping the last of the soap from my face. 

Unrolling the sleeping bag I positioned it in the centre of the blanket, unzipped it and folded the sides back. Laying in the middle, I said, 'Come along then, Miss Impatient. Your turn to know me.' 

She needed no instruction. Straddling my legs she grasped my newly resurrected tool in her strong fingers and carefully examined it, tracing the broad head, smooth sides and swollen veins. When, once more, it was rock hard, she eased herself up to my hips, held it upright, positioned herself above it, and slowly sank down taking all of me straight into her hot, tight centre. 

I let out a deep sigh at this sublime perfection, as she found my hands and brought them to her luscious boobs. Gently at first, then with increasing urgency, I caressed their silky skin, feeling her nipples grow and stiffen. She leant forward, running her hands across my chest before slowly, tentatively, beginning to raise and lower herself on me.

She straightened; her head went back; she moaned; the muscles of her cunni instinctively clasped me. Her juices smoothing the way, she moved faster, each plunge harder, her cries getting louder. Her full breasts were bouncing, trying to tear themselves from my grasp.

I felt her thighs quiver as her orgasm built and I lifted my hips to meet her spasms. For the second time that evening I erupted, my sperm flowing deep into her. She gave a short cry of rapture, her legs muscles gripping my sides as she squeezed me dry, then collapsed forward onto my chest. 

Finding her mouth I quietly kissed her lips and slid an arm between us and cupping a hard used breast, gently soothed the roughness of my clasp, my thumb stroking a still hard bud.

She said nothing, just rubbed her slender, young body against mine. My final thought as I fell asleep, clasping her close, was to pray I had not made a mistake and that I could keep this wondrous woman for my own. 

THE GRASS WAS GREEN, the sky blue and the high sun warm as we walked hand in hand. Then she was gone, running from me across the close cropped turf. Vainly I chased her nude, coffee coloured form until she suddenly stopped and turned to me her chest heaving. I cupped the fullness of those beautiful breasts in my hands, squeezing them lightly.

'Know me, Ralph. Know me hard.'

I bore her to the ground. She quivered and moaned deep in her throat as I entered her. Her cunni was hot and tight around my long, thick shaft. Slowly I withdrew. She clutched at me as I paused, unwilling to let me completely leave her. My hard, so sensitive tip brushing her eager entrance I rubbed it up and down her furrow. She struggled and moaned with delight.

She rolled on top of me. 'Yes, yes, know me. Know me!' Her lips pressed mine, tongue probing for a dance partner.

As we kissed my palms found her tits, caressing them and stroking her hard nipples with my thumbs. She moaned with desire as I pinched and pulled, her young body pressed hard against me. 

She raised and positioned herself then, and with a merry paean of lust, took me deep. My mouth was on a nipple; sucking; feeding; possessing. Her cunni contracted, clutching me hard. We held each other tightly as I erupted and filled her.

She was gone. I was alone. I could see her across the turf. Running toward a distant figure. I chased her but my legs were leaden. The faster I sprinted the further away she seemed. The figure was clear now - a tall, fair haired man of her own age. She threw herself into his arms.

I AWOKE, HEART POUNDING, lungs gasping. It was a dream, only a dream. She was beside me, stretched out, boobs pressed to the side of my chest, her head nestling on my shoulder, my arm aching where it was trapped under her adorable frame. 

Most dreams are but a meaningless mish-mash triggered by the events of the day; but a few hold the key to our innermost needs and fears. Lying in the fresh, crisp, pre-dawn air I faced the truths mine had revealed. She had made me once more a whole man. Now I, in turn, wanted to make her my woman; to have, hold, care for and, who knows, maybe breed. But I was frightened; frightened that when she found her way in the wider world she would desert me for a younger man. 

Facing my apprehension I reasoned all I could do was enjoy her in the present and let the future come as it may. If I was to have any chance of keeping her I mustn't assert myself. I must let her set the pace.

She stirred and drowsily murmured, 'Fuckle me, Captain.'

Was she really awake? I slid my arm from under her and gently moved her head from my shoulder. She didn't stir, continuing to breathe evenly. It seemed she also was dreaming. Then a deep sigh, a twitch of the legs, a small cry and a broad smile. At least her dreams were pleasant.

Here was the first test of my resolve. Much as I was tempted to rouse and cajole her into relieving my morning woody the idea must come from her.

Wilful brayed, shattering my meditations. The beast had to be short of water by now; despite all the rain a case of water, water, everywhere, nor any drop for him to drink. He bellowed again and Bea opened her eyes. Briskly sliding from the sleeping bag I searched the panniers for a clean pair of Y-fronts.

'Come on sleepy-head. Let's get the show on the road,' I urged.

She yawned, 'What's the rush, Captain.'

'I want to get to my studio. I've got the idea for a painting burning in my brain.'

Stretching, she presented her divine body to me. It took all my will power not to leap on its offered delight. Instead I doggedly turned to preparing a quick breakfast.

A modicum of chivvying and we were on our way again. This morning I would brook no delay to sketch or admire the scenery; I was compelled by a need greater than any I had ever known to get back to my studio and daub paint on canvas.

OVER ONE MORE RISE and the rest was downhill all the way. Even Wilful seemed to get the message, or perhaps he just sensed the nearness of his paddock. Mid morning a line of blue across the horizon marked the sea and slowly grew until by early afternoon we were back among the bushes and trees of the littoral. Abruptly we came to the end of the path where it met the road that wound its way along the coast. Turning westward we skirted the edge of the bay. 

Bea was entranced by the beach and the calm sea. 'I'd forgotten what it's like,' she said.

'How come?'

'Mother took the twins and me when we were young, but the last time was years ago. Can we go on the sand?'

'I was planning to. You see where the bay ends in those rocky cliffs. Well they're a small headland. The far side is a tiny cove with my house. We're lucky, it's just about low tide so if we're quick we can wade around the point.'

'What happens when the tide's up?'

'Then we have to go the long way. Round by the road and down a half-mile track that leads from the village to the cove.'

It still being fairly early in the season there weren't many people on the beach, and they were all clustered at the other, eastern end, close to a small hut providing ices and snacks. I grabbed Wilful's bridle to keep him taking it dead slow down the short, steep path to the beach. Not Bea though. With a whoop of joy she ran down the sand to the water's edge, plucked her shoes off and splashed along the shallows.

'Isn't it cold?' I shouted.

'No. It's quite warm. I'm going to swim.' She darted back to stuff her shoes in a pannier and untie the knot of that shirt and slip out of those hot pants.

A quick glance back along the beach assured me there was no one close enough to see her strip so I let her go. 'Watch the currents around the headland,' I shouted, 'they can be quite strong, even at low tide.'

Her pleasure was infectious and if it weren't for Wilful I'd probably have joined her. As it was I upped my speed in an effort to get to the cottage as quickly as possible, while happily enjoying the sight of her - a naked sprite dancing out until the water was up to her thighs, then throwing herself forward in an energetic dog paddle. 

But soon, as I strode along the beach beside Wilful, watching my woman cavort among the small, choppy waves, my joy diminished. On the one hand, I had a feeling of guilt at my immoderate plunder of her nubile innocence, and on the other an urge to flaunt my possession of her seductive flesh like some proud symbol of masculine prowess. Telling myself to take a grip I waded through the shallow water round the rocks at the base of the headland and into the cove and my solitary dwelling.

As I stepped back onto the sand a wet and naked Bea came to stand the other side of Wilful. 'Is this your's?' She asked, her eyes opening wide.

I tried to see what she saw. A gently sloping, sandy beach about sixty yards wide between two low, rocky headlands. Then a narrow foreshore of dunes with a scattering of hardy grasses and salt loving plants and up a short slope, the building I called my studio.




Thanks Be



'Not really,' I said. 'The house, yes. I own that, or rather them. When I bought them with the money I got in compensation for my injuries they were a short terrace of four, tiny, two-hundred-year-old, derelict fishermen's cottages. Bit by bit I've knocked down a few internal walls, put in bigger windows, generally done them up and converted them all to one studio and home.'

'It looks nice.'

'Well, I like it. Can be a bit isolated during the winter gales, but warm and snug. I also own the field at the back, across which the path from the village runs. So although the beach is not mine I control the access from the land, which means I usually have it all to myself.'

'How do we get in?'

'Round the other side. When the gales come it doesn't do to have doors facing the sea.'

By now Wilful's decided he's hungry and is almost trotting, forcing us to hurry to keep up.

Bea points to what was the end one of the four cottages. 'Why's that top bit missing?'

'Oh, being the cottage nearest the sea it took the brunt of the wind and the roof had completely caved in. I didn't bother to rebuild it, just levelled it into a flat balcony over the bottom room. It makes a place where I can sit of a fine evening and watch the waves.'

Round the landward side of the building I unstrapped the panniers from Wilful and turned him loose in his paddock. Meanwhile Bea was moving along the face of my home peering through each window in turn.

'Here, grab one of these bags,' I called. 'Then you can go inside and explore the whole place.' I found the key where I had hidden it under a loose flagstone and opened the door. 'Studio, bathroom and bedroom downstairs. Living room, kitchen and terrace up top.'

WHILE A CURIOUS BEA WANDERED from room to room, I checked through the house to see that all was well; opening all the windows to blow away the faint, musty smell that comes when a place is shut up for a spell. 

One drawback to my wanderings is the trouble needed to keep clean, which means that by the time I return home a long, warm soak is always high on my list of priorities. Thus I was glad to see there was an abundance of hot water; the solar panels I'd fixed on the roof having been working all the time I was away. 

'Bea! I'll be in the shower. Shan't be long.' I shouted.

Her reply was muffled so I continued on my way to the wet room, stripping off travel stained clothes as I went. Soon clean, I was luxuriating in the feel of warm, cascading water when the door opened and Bea looked in at me.

'Don't stand there staring,' I admonished her. 'Go and put the kettle on . . . or join me.'

Momentarily she disappeared then reappeared wearing nothing but a happy grin. 'You sure there's room for another one?' she asked.

'If she snuggles up close. Anyway you shouldn't need cleaning,' I said. 'Not after your swim.'

'Not the same thing. Anyway I'm covered in salt.'

'I've got just the answer for that.' I reached for the soap.

She sighed as my hands touched her slight back, gently rubbing soapy lather from shoulder to waist. The gleam of the water slipping down her wet skin had my heart pounding and my cock at attention. I had to restrain myself from forcing myself on her straight away. That I was soon going to take her again was inevitable - a man has only so much control and mine was fast disappearing, but I needed to be patient with her.

Her unfettered breasts sliding gently to and fro in my soapy, circling, rubbing, caressing palms as I made doubly, triply sure to wash away any trace of sea salt. I cupped one and squeezed it, feeling the nipple harden between my fingers. 

She gave a soft moan. 'Know me, Captain. Please.'

It was what I'd been hoping for. 'All in good time.' I was going to delay until she was craving for me, until it seemed she was the one setting the pace.

My soap-slickened hands seemed to move of their own volition; trailing lather down to her slim midriff and on to rounded belly, then to cradle her mound. She moaned again as my fingers stroked along her furrow. Bending my knees I slipped my palms to the backs of her legs and up her smooth thighs to her bottom. Cupping the swells of her buttocks I lingered for long minutes kneading and caressing them before sliding my finger to touch in that divine place between her legs. 

She cried out in delight.

I stood upright behind her and wrapped my arms about her - one hand determinedly fondling and squeezing a tit and rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. My other hand still touched her, finding and rubbing her erect clit, rousing a thrill that left her trembling.

She was almost crying in her need. 'Now. Please now.' 

I pushed the exploratory finger inside her, making her groan with pleasure and thrust her arse back to find my throbbing, reborn cock. 

It was time. I could wait no longer.

Hands holding her hips I lifted her on her toes and, pushing with my chest on her back, forced her to lean forward. Her legs spread wide as she tried to keep her balance, allowing my rampant tool to dive deep into her.

It was my turn to groan as her velvet virgina clamped itself around my solid shaft. Shifting my grip to her pendant tits, I stopped for a moment to savour the feel of her tight, young depth. 

'Don't stop,' she begged and, frustrated, started to rock forward and back on my rigid rod.

It was too much. In my book it's the man's duty to control the mating so I responded to her rhythm, took it over, then upped the speed of the strokes until she was moaning and convulsing in her most powerful orgasm yet. 

I paused, let her rest a while then resumed my thrusting until her muscles tightened once more and I felt my cock flex and throb. Again I should have withdrawn, but something stopped me, something told me this was my woman, that it was our destiny for me to erupt and fill her with my milky white seed.

Once I was empty I turned her round and cradled her in my arms, fastened my lips to hers, and kissed her with a love and affection I didn't know I was capable of.

DRYING EACH OTHER soon became a rumbustious game. We might have been two young children filling the air with laughter and giggles. Finally, breathless, I called a halt. 

'To the kitchen. I'm in need of feeding and watering.'

She smiled and with us both still in a state of nature led the way upstairs. 'My turn to cook,' she decreed, opening cupboards at random.

'You forget I've been away. There's only dry stuff. Rice and pasta and tinned tomatoes and beans.'

Delving amongst my emergency stocks she came up brandishing a large tin. 'There's a slice or two left of that bread we brought with us. So it's baked beans on toast.'

'Ah! A meal fit for a king. And after we've eaten I'll walk up to the village and check what post has piled up while I've been away. Maybe get some milk and eats at the same time.'

'Can I come?'

I was brought up short. I hadn't considered how I was going to introduce her to my friends. What would they think? Would they approve of her? Suddenly I realised how important it was that they liked her. 

Pensively I looked at her as she bustled around the room still wearing nothing more than that happy smile. Well, I certainly wasn't going to scandalise the villagers by letting her run around sky clad, but how was I going to get her something decent to wear?

Suddenly a plan came to me. 'It'll mean wearing that old dress of yours.'

'Must I?'

'Be better if you do.'

While we ate I explained my idea. 'On the corner, where my footpath meets the road through the village, there's a largish house belonging to a widow named Liz Rundle - it's Elizabeth really but everyone calls her Liz - she's not that old, about fifty, I think. Still, around three or four years ago - shortly before I came here - she lost her husband and daughter in a boating accident.

'To save the postman a long trek, she takes in what little mail I get, and I pick it up whenever I'm passing; often of an evening on my way to the pub. Also when I'm away she checks it for anything urgent.

'I'm going to ask her advice on getting you some clothes. Nothing too fancy, but suitable for your age. Then tomorrow we can go shopping. And later we'll go down to the pub to meet the characters from the village. Suit you?'

'Sure, Captain. Anything you say.'

'Forget the captain label, Bea. Better you call me Ralph.'

'Aye, aye, Captain.' 

IT WAS STILL EARLY EVENING when we arrived at Liz's solid Victorian pile. Her small runabout sitting in the driveway meant we were fortunate to have caught her at home. Often when I called she would be out at one of her many meetings, for since the death of her family she had thrown herself into good works around the district. 

I led the way round the back and banged on the kitchen door, calling, 'Your favourite black sheep returns.'

The door opened and she gave a broad smile of welcome. 'Well, well. At last. Come in, Ralph.'

She'd obviously just returned from a meeting of the District Council for her greying hair was in a neat chignon and was wearing a pearl necklace and earrings. The full swells of her heavy breasts filled the white, formal blouse while the black skirt was tight over the curve of her rounded rump.

A sudden barking heralded the arrival of Rags, her aging terrier who rushed up, and by nipping at my ankles asked me to make a fuss of him.

'And how are . . . ' Liz caught sight of Bea. 'Who's this? Another of your waifs and strays, Ralph?'

'You could put it that way. This is Bea. Bea come and meet Mrs. Rundle.'

'How do you do, Mrs Rundle?' Shyly she lowered her eyes.

'Oh, call me Liz. Everyone else does. And if you're a friend of Ralph's . . .' She glanced at me, 'She is just a friend?'

'Well,' I dissembled, 'what else could she be?'

'I don't trust you artists. I shall require a full report later.'

'Yes, Mam.' If I knew Liz I was in for a grilling and woe betide me if she felt my behaviour was reprehensible.

'Anyway, couldn't you find her some decent clothes?'

'Well, I wanted to ask your advice on that. This tatty old dress is all she's got. I'm planning to take her shopping tomorrow and get her properly kitted out. But I'm not sure where's best for woman's things, or what to get.'

'Doesn't she know. I didn't think girls existed any more who weren't experts in retail therapy.' Liz slowly looked Bea up and down. 'She looks about the age Jane was when . . .' She paused and swallowed. 

I felt terrible. Had I inadvertently reopened old wounds? 

'There might be something of Jane's stored away that could fit her. Any road, be better than that thing she's wearing now.'

'We're not imposing are we? If they were Jane's don't you want to keep them?'

'Not doing much good stuck in a cupboard. Should have had the strength to get rid of them years ago. Mind, they might be a bit old fashioned now.'

'Well thank you. It would be very kind.'

'Humph! Your mail's on the small table in the hall.' She turned to Bea who was making a firm friend of the dog. Suddenly she was in mother mode. 'Come on my dear, let's go and see what we can find.'

While they were doing whatever women do in these circumstances I strolled down to the village stores and bought a few things to see us over the night. I was itching to start the painting I had imagined in my dream, but it was clear that I would have to waste my efforts the next morning on a visit to town for materials. It would probably save time if I was to shop for food for a few days while I was there.

When they returned Bea was clad in a loose, red mini-skirt that emphasised the slenderness of her thighs and long legs. Above a deliciously bare midriff a skimpy, white halter top moulded her breasts, allowing the points of her nipples to press against the thin fabric.

She looked so young and lovely I was struck speechless.

Not so Liz who glared at me and said, 'I've heard her side of the story and I don't know whether you deserve a medal for helping her, or a good thrashing for taking advantage of an innocent young girl. But just you remember I've got my eye on you Ralph Saldano.'

I felt like a small boy who had just been reamed out by his headmistress.

'Fortunately she's near enough the same size as Jane was, except for her boobs - Jane's old bras are much too small - so I've given her enough things to keep her going for a while.' She pointed to a large carrier bag Bea was holding, then continued, 'Tomorrow I've nothing on before the Council Finance Committee meeting at two o'clock, so get yourselves here about nine and I'll take you into Broadvale and get her a few other things that you have clearly not thought of, like tampons and,' she glared at me again, 'I suppose I'm going to have to get her prescribed the pill.'

I contrived to look sheepish. 'It might be for the best.'

'Don't forget your credit card and cheque book.'

With Liz's injunction ringing in my ears and the sun already resting on the horizon we headed back to my studio. 

Despite being burdened by the bag of clothes a delighted Bea contrived to dance down the path. Momentarily she paused beside me. 'What now, Ralph?' she asked.

'I really wanted to do a preliminary study for my masterpiece - "Thanksbe the Angel of Delight".'

She dug me in the ribs.

'All right, make that "Thanksbe the Tormentor".'

She put her tongue out at me.

'However, the light's too far gone to start painting tonight. So I don't really know.'

She struck a serious pose, 'I can think of something.'

'I'm sure you can, you little sexpot.'

'Well, then.'

'Let's save that for bed-time. After we've celebrated.'

'What are we celebrating?'

'Take your pick. That today is Wednesday; or our arrival home; or your birthday yesterday; or just because we're happy. At least I am and you seem to be.'

'I'll think about it.' She ran on down the path giving Wilful a smack on the rump as she passed his paddock.

Back in the cottage I searched through the half-a-dozen bottles that comprised my small cellar and found a sparkling white wine. That would do. Collecting a couple of glasses I carried everything out to my rooftop terrace where the early evening still retained the heat of the day. 

Glass in hand I said, 'A toast . . . To us and all who sail with us.'

Bea took a sip of wine, 'I like this. Can we have it every night?'

'Not a good idea. But when we want to mark something special. . .'

We sat quietly watching the sun disappear and the occasional ship pass slowly in the distance. We might have been long term lovers. 

It had been quite a day for my girl and I made sure she matched me glass for glass so it wasn't long before she was dozing. Certain she was fully asleep I careful picked her up and carried her downstairs to the bedroom. The thick stone walls retained the warmth of the sun which made it much too hot for any covers, or indeed night clothes so after undressing her I covered her with just a sheet. Then, stripping off, I slid naked beside her, congratulating myself on the foresight of installing a queen sized bed. 

As I settled myself she stirred and rolled into me murmuring, 'Know me, Captain.'

It took a lot of will power to resist the invitation, but realising she was dreaming I refrained and was soon asleep myself, one arm loosely draped over her enchanting form.

I'D FORGOTTEN TO DRAW the curtains so woke to bright sunlight angling in through the window. Unsealing my eyelids I beheld another sight from my phantasies; a nude Bea standing beside the bed, a mug in her hand.

'Morning, sleepy head,' she said, 'I thought you might want a drink after last night, I know I did.'

Squinting in the bright light, my lips too dry to talk, I motioned her to place it on the bedside table. That done she sat on the edge of the bed, gently pulled the sheet from me and leant forward to set her lips clumsily on mine, her pendant tits delicately grazing my chest. 

Turning my head slightly away I ran my tongue along my lips to moisten them. 'Morning, Middy. How long have you been up?'

'Some time. Been trying on the clothes Aunt Liz gave me. It's lovely and warm outside. Can we go swimming?'

I struggled to sit up and put my arms around her, one hand fondling a firm breast. 'Of course you . . . we . . . can. You don't need my permission. And what's this "Aunt" Liz?'

'That's what she said I was to call her.'

'Well if that's what she wants.' I lowered my face and nuzzled her breasts. 'I thought you might want to do something else first.'

For a moment she looked puzzled. Then the penny dropped and she gave a tinkling laugh. 'You want to fuckle? We've got all day, I say we swim first.'

I gave her left boob a slight squeeze, 'How many times must I tell you, featherbrain, it's not fuckle, it's fuck. And we do not have all day. Your new aunt is taking us shopping. Anyway I want to start painting. I'm afraid that if I delay too long the image in my mind will disappear.'

'Oh!' She looked like a little girl who's been told she can't go to the party.

When a quick glance at the clock by the bed showed we had a couple of hours before we were due to meet Liz Rundle, I couldn't resist taking pity on her and relented. 'Short swim first, then a quick fuck, then shopping. Okay?'

She plucked herself from my grasp and ran to the door. Feeling almost a teenager again I followed her, leaving the mug of tea to grow cold.

A quick deviation for a pee and I was out of the house and round to the top of my small beach where, just in case, I paused to check for interlopers. It was rare for any trippers to find their way to my little cove, especially this early in the day but it happened occasionally, and while they might enjoy my lovely nude naiad cavorting around I doubted they would look so favourably on seeing me in a state of nature.

All was clear, as was the day, with a bright early summer sun already warming the sand. The tide was coming in, waves breaking lazily around the rocks of the headland. About thirty yards out Bea was merrily splashing in her version of a dog paddle. I made a mental note that swimming lessons were called for, then ran out into the invigorating water.

Soon I caught and dunked her, at which she squealed and called me a few names I was surprised she'd heard. Then she was off and heading back for the beach. As she set her feet on the sand I grabbed an ankle and pulled her face down then knelt astride her legs, my cock resting in the valley of her arse.

'Give up!'

'What's the prize?' She asked.

'Why you of course. I get to enjoy your maidenly delights.'

'Whoopee! But I get to say how.'

'If you insist.' At that moment I'd have given her anything.

Lifting herself, her wet hair wiping across my chest, she rolled away and brushed the sand from her tits. 'On your back, Captain,' she ordered.

'Aye, aye, Mam,' I said, turning over and guiding her to straddle my hips.

She giggled softly as her damp muff rubbed against my stiff shaft. Her fingers felt for my length, rubbed it and pushed it against her folds, sliding it to and fro. At last she lifted slightly, positioned me at her entrance then sank down imprisoning me deep in her tight tunnel.

My hands on her shoulders I pulled her forward until I could seize a nipple between my teeth. My mouth sucking and devouring, her my hands found and squeezed her wonderful arse. Suddenly she groaned, 'Enough,' and sat up, carefully moving my hands to her boobs. Then, wriggling her hips to get her cuni centrally placed over my cock, she started to rise and fall, giving a grunt each time she hit bottom and a sigh every time she nearly let me slip out.

'Ohhhh!' She groaned. She was nearly there.

'Harder, faster, make me come,' I urged her.

'I am!' She shouted. 'Can't you feel me?'

Yes, yes, yes, I could feel her. I could feel nothing else. Never before had I known such joy. All too soon we came together in an explosion of pleasure so exquisite it hurt. While our pulses gradually slowed I languorously delighted myself with my favourite occupation - cupping and caressing those sublime tits.




Thanks Be



I APPEARED TO BE back in favour with Liz Rundle, who obviously realised that mine was not solely a case of, as Katherine Whitehorn once said, "outside every thin girl there is a fat man try to get (his tool) in". Maybe it was my demeanour and treatment of Bea - or perhaps it was showing her a few of the sketches I'd made to showing she was also the muse for my art. Anyway the shopping trip went as shopping trips tend to go - lots to carry and a lighter wallet. I returned burdened with paints, canvas and goodies for our larder, but I swear Bea was carrying even more bags - and was annoyingly Sphinx-like about their contents. 

Back in my cottage the urgency and compulsion to set brush to canvas was overwhelming. For once I had something meaningful to say. I was being a true artist and not merely a jobbing craftsman. Anything that requires a modicum of skill gets labelled as art, ignoring the fact that to be true art it must contain a message, must seek to extend the viewer's understanding of reality.

Normally I take the sketches I make on my wanderings and set one against another; add a detail here, an angle there, until I come to a composition which says something. But not this time. The dream that had come to me on the moor was already complete. 

'What do I have to do?' Bea asked when I introduced her to my studio. 

'Just stand on the dais over there and keep still. That is the most important, and difficult thing, keeping still until I tell you to relax. So make sure that the positions I put you in are comfortable - no strain.'

She moved to stand facing me, arms at her side while I slowly undressed her. The new blouse first - her firm young breasts springing free as I released the strain on its buttons, for she seemed to agree with me that a bra was uncalled for. Then unzipping the jeans she had just bought to reveal clean, white silk panties. Slipping curled fingers into the cloth at each hip I gently slid both down her slim legs, extricating each foot in turn. Throwing them to one side I briefly teased her by leaning in and running my tongue up the inside of one thigh and along her labia. She giggled. 

Standing back my eyes inventoried her gracefully curvaceous figure. Noted the way the light played across her nudity, causing her skin glow; cast soft shadows below her boobs, touched her slim waist and left her loins shaded and indistinct. 

A brief, appreciative appraisal then I finger-combed her muff to a semblance of neatness and positioned her: right hand cupping her right breast and, letting my fingertips slide lightly down, bent her left arm to the side, palm on hip.

Traditionally artistic nudes are posed to obscure their pudendas - a by-product of the anti-pornographic, politically correct lobby. But not this time. The central concept I was trying to convey required the viewer to be made aware and stimulated by the embodiment of lust. Properly lit she was exactly as I had envisaged - nipples erect, hips square-on and swollen labia clearly displayed. Bea beautifully conveyed the Alpha and Omega of aroused allure. 

Fortunately I had a canvas of the right size ready stretched and primed, so setting it on my easel I furiously blocked out the composition; captured the planes of her form, the strength of her legs ; the tilt of her head; the proud thrust of her breasts; the swell of her belly. Ah! the swell of her belly. For the first time in my life I felt I understood the urge to procreate. But later, that was for later - now the fire of composition was upon me. 

When the light began to fade I reluctantly put my brushes in a jar of turpentine and let Bea rest. She had been marvelous, barely the twitch of a muscle and not a single complaint during the time I had been lost in my muse. She needed a reward.

'How about a bite to eat and then I take you to the pub,' I suggested.

'Never been to one of them.'

'Well I used to go whenever I felt need of company. Now I've got you it's not important. So if you'd rather not we can stay home.'

'Didn't say that. Love to go.'

'Right, that's settled. While I put the kettle on and sort out the food, you go and get dressed. Nothing sexy or fancy. Jeans and a sweat shirt will do.'

'Aye, aye, Captain.'

'I told you, It's Ralph.'

'Sure thing, Captain Ralph. We going to meet any of your friends?'

'Probably,' I said, wondering what they were going to make of her.

While I put together a quick meal of cheese omelette, tomatoes and chips Bea disappeared into the bedroom to rummage among the clothes she had acquired.

I had to approve when she reappeared in the brief, white, halter-neck top that left her back bare and contrasted well with the warm cinnamon of her skin and the black of her hair. It was the ideal choice for a girl disinclined to wear a bra, yet it plainly declared the beauty of the curvaceous mounds it covered, their nipples clearly bulging the smooth fabric and a sliver of buoyant flesh peeking out from each side. Below a smooth midriff was a denim skirt that came down her slender thighs to stop just short of her knees. A pair a open-toed sandals completed the ensemble.

IT WAS QUITE CROWDED when we arrived at my local - The Royal Harry. Most of the seats out front were taken by holiday-makers enjoying the warm evening sun, while the few locals who could spare a bit of time from fleecing them were inside bemoaning the loss in atmosphere brought about by the intolerant, puritanical, do-gooding government who had forced the landlord to remove the ashtrays and exile smokers to the open air.

Leading Bea to the entrance I was conscious of the way the men watched her with excited interest - and many of the women with a touch of envy. I couldn't help feeling proud and secretly pleased. 

Inside it was quiet and snug with plenty of free seats. My regular drinking companions who were occupying our usual table between the empty fireplace and the bar didn't notice us until the landlord said, 'The usual Ralph?' 

I nodded. 'And for your friend?' he added.

'Oh,' I hadn't thought. A soft drink would be to treat her as a child, but this wasn't the time for her to experiment. 'A white wine, please Harry. Sweet if you've got one.'

'Like her nature, eh!' A rather snide remark, but I knew he meant well so let it pass.

'Hi! Ralph. Good to have you back.' Brian Knowles was his usual hearty self. 'And who's your friend?'

I raised my beer to acknowledge them, 'Evening all.' 

'Bea,' I turned to her, 'this rabble is, from the left, Wesley - with the whiskers - Brian, and Dave. . . guys,' I looked back at my cronies, 'This is Bea who is staying with me for a while.'

They all made welcoming noises and moved round on the benches to make room for us. As I sat next to him it was Wesley who quietly remarked, 'Didn't take you for a cradle snatcher, Ralph. Goes well, does she?'

I dug him in the ribs. 'Keep your perverted thoughts to yourself. She's a decent, well brought up girl. She's here to model for me.' Who was I kidding.

'Oh yeah. I'll believe you, thousands wouldn't.' 

The talk being general, Bea sat quietly absorbing the atmosphere while I was brought up to date with the local gossip and happenings. However, I could see I was going to be in for a raft of questions when we returned to the studio. 

When, staring toward the door, Dave Wells said, 'I wouldn't mind getting into her thong. If she's wearing one.' And Brian added, 'She's certainly taken heed of that old rubric; if you've got it, flaunt it.' I turned in my chair to see what had claimed their attention. 

She was a stunner. Mid twenties at a guess, with pale, lightly tanned skin and a mass of flaming red hair cascading down onto her shoulders. Long, faultless legs flowed up from high heeled sandals to a white, rump-hugging miniskirt, while a stand away crop-top left her midriff bare. She had a mouth just made for pleasuring a man, but it was the way she paraded her billowing bust that drew every eye in the place. A hussy if ever I saw one. I wondered who the lucky man would be that night.

'Wouldn't mind dipping my wick in that,' Brian commented.

'Get in the queue,' Dave said.

'It'll be round the block and back again,' Brian added.

'Anyone not standing in line would have to be past it or gay.' Dave again.

From the corner of my eye I noticed an intrigued Bea was listening hard and closely watching the woman as she strolled to the powder room. Another subject to add to the questions coming my way as we walked home. Reckoning it time to put an end to the macho chatter, I glared at Brian and Dave and gave a brief nod toward Bea. They got the message and shut up.

I raised my glass, 'Another round?' I suggested. 'Oh, and Wesley, you got any free time over the next few days?'

'What you got in mind?'

'A six pack at my place while I do a sketch or two of you.' He could be cantankerous if he felt someone was imposing on his independence so I was deliberately casual over the idea of his posing for my masterwork.

'Depends. Bit busy this stage of the season. Perhaps Saturday afternoon if nothing crops up.'

'Sounds good to me.' I tried not to appear too pleased. 'Just want to try out a couple of ideas I've got.'

The conversation grew more general. Mainly about the trade tourists were bringing, together with a few anecdotes of their antics.

Bea continued to sit quietly while we talked. Was she bored? I couldn't tell so decided to cut short our excursion.

QUIETLY, COMPANIONABLY, HAND-IN-HAND, we returned home down the footpath. The evening had cleared my mind. Somehow I could stand apart and watch myself and know it was meant to be. That this woman was part of me. Mine to have and hold, to please and protect. To be, as it has been so aptly put, the light of my life, the fire of my loins.

As I'd expected, she had a heap of questions about the hussy in the pub, which I tried my best to answer. Whether she fully believed me, and what she felt of the woman's blatant display of sexuality, I didn't know. Though she did ask if I also wanted to have her. 

I'm ashamed to say I prevaricated at little, saying, 'Maybe, if I didn't have you. But I'm a one woman man, and you're enough for me.' Though truth to say I defy any man who saw that flaunted body not to feel his cock stir. 

Back home Bea disappeared into the bedroom while I washed the dishes and cleared the lounge. Nothing is worse than waking up to a messy house. Then I heard a sound behind me. Turning I saw Bea standing in the doorway watching, one hand stretched toward me. 'Please,' she said, her voice low, her eyes downcast.

'Please, what?'

'Please, Captain. Know me.' It was almost a moan.

What was wrong? I went to her and taking her in my arms pulled her close, kissing her softly, crushing her against my chest. Her arms wrapped around me, hands digging into my back, sending tingles straight between my loins.

I pulled back a little and looked into her eyes. 'What's up, my dear?'

She just tried to pull me closer.

I kissed the top of her head. 'Wait a moment while I get organised.' Then a hand around her back, the other under her knees, I lifted and carried her to the bedroom. 

Having slipped off my sandals I pulled my polo shirt over my head. As I dropped it to the floor her hands were already fumbling for the fastening of my jeans. Lowering the zip she reached in and drew me out, already hard and eager. Pushing her hands away I finally got rid of my clothes and climbed on the bed beside her. 

'It's even better if we take it slowly, my dear.' 

'If you say so.' She seemed almost desperate to be taken, yet lacking in confidence.

Pulling her close, I ran my hands through her hair. Traced the contours of her neck. Kissed her chin, the hollow of her throat - moved down to her collarbone. All the while caressing her breasts with my palms and running my fingers across the tee-shirt to tease her already hard and pert nipples. 

I paused for a moment. 'Please, my darling, tell me what's bothering you. I can't help unless you do.'

'What am I going to do when you get tired of me; when you don't want me any more?' Her eyes were full of tears.

What to say. I hugged her closer. 'Hush, little one. I'm never going to get tired of you.' 

Putting her arms tightly round me, her voice barely more than a whisper, she said, 'But what about when you want another woman? You wanted that red-head in the pub. I know you did.'

Gently I stroked her head. 'Not really. And not instead of you. You come first with me.'

'I don't want to be a burden, but I can't help it. I don't know what to do.'

'Who says you're a burden? Not to me you aren't.'

'But you can have any woman - you probably have - so why me?'

'Because you do something to me. And you inspire my painting.' 

She drew a shuddering breath, 'I don't want to leave you. Ever.'

A storm of emotion swept through me. My arms tight around her I squeezed her close, trying to reassure her. 'You don't have to. Just stay. I think I love you.'

She turned her face to me and I nuzzled her wet cheeks, found her mouth and glued my lips to hers, the force of my passion bruising her flesh.

In due course her tears dried and she sighed deeply, 'Sorry to be such a cry baby, Captain.'

I kissed her lightly on the nose, 'Rest your mind, you silly goose. That's what shoulders are for - to be cried on when necessary.'

Anxious to restore her confidence and to show how desirable I found her, I eased her up from the bed, gripped the hem of her tee-shirt and pulled it over her head revealing the soft, perfect, orbs that fit so well into my hands. I bent my head to one, flicking the nipple with my tongue. She muttered something I couldn't hear as I concentrated on gently sucking her tender flesh.

Slowly I worked my way down her body. Savouring her firmness, stroking her stomach with the pads of my fingertips. Reaching the band of her skirt I felt around, unhooked it and together with her panties, pulled it past her hips and down her legs leaving her naked and ready.

Taking a foot in my hand I remembered the first time I'd held it. Could it be only four days ago. It seemed a lifetime. 

Inch by inch I kissed my way up her ankle to her firm calves. She wriggled slightly, trying to pull free, then quietly lay back her legs spread wide. Higher and higher my lips grazed. As I reached her soft inner thighs the scent of her arousal filled my nostrils.

I gazed at her sublime centre, pouting like the petals of a beautiful flower below the soft night of her thick bush. Gently at first, then with growing passion, I pressed my mouth against those lips. She moaned and rose to meet me. I searched for, and found, her begging clit peeping from its hood. Circled and licked it hard, devouring it. Ardently I pressed a couple of fingers into her velvet embrace.

She moaned and muttered incoherently, her voice husky. Shoulders twisting her arms thrashed the bed. A few moments later she shrieked and came in a rush, covering my face and fingers with her sweet juices.

I gave her no respite. Clasped her trim butt I again pulled her onto my mouth. The tip of my tongue parted those juicy petals, exploring her hypersensitive grotto, enjoying her taste. Her clawing hands tore at my hair. She was gasping for breath. Her hips bucked, desperate to take me deeper. Again she cried out, her knees raised high, her feet pummeling the back of my head.

Lowering her legs to the mattress I waited as her breathing became less ragged and she slowly melted into the bed.

I needed my release. 

Slowly, my palms caressing up her legs, I once more parted her knees and thighs. Laying between them my cock rubbed the wet hair of her muff. My fingers fondled her sweat slickened breasts, gently squeezing their swollen nipples.

As, exhausted, she weakly tried to raise her hips I slipped inside her inspiring slit. Then, lowering my weight onto those hard-used boobs, I tantalizingly began to almost fully withdraw and thrust, withdraw and thrust. Louder and louder she moaned at each deep, demanding stroke as I took us closer and closer to a mutual orgasm.

'Yes, Captain. Yes. Yes. Yes,' she groaned, an arm winding around my neck.

Leaning back and lifting her legs to my shoulders, faster and faster I rocked to and fro; pushed deeper and deeper; felt her velvet walls clutch and release me, clutch and release me. Crying out as we came together, each tightly clasping the other, her body shook as I emptied myself into her hot, welcoming core.

Side by side we lay while I murmured reassuring words of affection until, minutes later, my flaccid cock slid from her. It seemed I had, temporarily at least, quelled her doubts. 

Turning her spine into my chest, her arse into my groin I wrapped my arms protectively around her and held her spooned. She couldn't keep her eyes open. Her breathing grew quiet and even. Tired and content, we slept.

IT WAS WARM AND HUMID when I awoke. The covers had fallen to the floor and Bea lay half on top of me, her head resting on my shoulder, one leg draped across my hip. Trapped under her back my arm was numb. 

A glance at the clock showed it was a lot later than I had thought. Yet the light was poor, almost twilight. Another front had moved in overnight leaving the sky grey, with a fine, penetrating drizzle smearing the windows. Annoying, for I'd wanted to continue with the painting, yet the light was really not good enough. However all was not lost, since a quiet, lazy morning would provide time for me to further assure Bea of my commitment to her. 

Easing myself from under her I padded into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Carrying the hot cups to the bedroom I gently roused my magical muse. 'What are we doing today?' She asked, stretching beguilingly.

'Nothing much,' I replied enjoying the view. 'How are you feeling?'

'Wonderful.'

I wanted to ask if she'd got over her doubts, but decided it was better to let a sleeping dog - or rather a satisfied nymphet - lie. Then the sight of her luxuriant muff reminded me. 'I promised to shave you sometime. We could start of with that.'

'If you want. I can think of something else.'

'I'm sure you can. But let's leave that until after I've prepared you. Then I'll show you how a smooth pussy adds to the pleasure.'

Eventually we got round to a late breakfast, or early lunch - what some call brunch. Between mouthfuls of needed muscle fuel Bea gleefully agreed that my forecast had been spot on and vowed to keep herself properly smooth - as much for her own pleasure as for mine. 

During our so agreeable labours the weather had been gradually improving. The light, although still not as I would have wished, was good enough to allow me to do some painting. I didn't push Bea too hard, she wasn't an experienced model yet. So after an hour or so I sent her off to play while I sketched in part of the background and generally prepared for the visit of Wesley the next day. Early evening she reappeared to ask, 'Do you realise what the time is?'

'Eh, no.'

'I've made us a meal. Come and eat.'

'Okay. The light's just about gone again. Give me a moment to clear up.'

'Don't take too long.'

Who taught Bea to cook I have never discovered. Her mother I presume, though she's not above consulting a cookbook. Anyway she's excellent with the standard, simple dishes. Being used to preparing my own meals - and often forgetting when carried away painting - having someone else do it was a real pleasure. And I told her so.

'What do I get as a reward, then?'

'Well I know what you want. But we can save that for bed time.'

'Wrong! First time I've known you get me wrong.'

'Alright, what do you want?'

'To go to that pub.'

'You sure? I don't want you all upset if that hussy is there again.'

'No. I'm over that. You're a man and if you want another woman, go ahead. As long as you come back to me.'




Thanks, Come On Over



I hope you enjoy the story.

*

For the past three years I had been listening to the weather report on the radio before leaving for work, so the curtains in my apartment were always closed. I was also a man who suffered regularly with migraine headaches, so often, when afflicted with one at home I would sit in the dark.

One morning when I woke up and turned the radio on, I was greeted by silence. My radio was broken, so I went over to the window, opened the curtain to see what sort of morning I was to look forward to. The sky was clear, so I smiled, turned away and went to get ready for work. When I was ready, I walked out the apartment, locked the door and went to get in the elevator that would carry me down the seventeen floors to the ground where I would exit the building and make my way to work.

When I returned from work that evening, I could feel the onset of one of my migraines, so I took my shoes off, sat in my chair with my head down and just waited it out. The light coming in through the curtain which I had forgotten to close bugged me, but not enough for me to get up and close it.

When the migraine finally ran it's course, the day had darkened outside, I stood up, went over to the window with the intention of closing the curtain. Something caught my eye, in the apartment building across the street there was a light on in a room with the curtains open and a woman appeared to be doing yoga naked. The day had not darkened enough for me to get a clear enough view, so I grabbed a dining room chair, pulled it over to the window and waited patiently.

After about 30 minutes, she turned towards the window, giving me a full frontal view. The unmistakable dark patch at the point where her legs met told me she was naked. My cock got really hard, and given it's position, uncomfortable. I stood up, readjusted, and sat back down, never taking my eyes off the woman across the street. I decided then and there that I would have to buy myself a pair of binoculars, the building was 75 yards away, a little too far for clear viewing.

When I returned home at lunch time the next day there was a small package lying outside my door with no delivery address, or return address, there was just a number written on the packaging. My apartment number. I carried the package in, I was cautious and curios. I had decided that I was not going to open it till this evening. I left my apartment earlier than usual, the reason being that I wanted to stop at the pawn shop on the way back to work. I managed to pick up a decent pair of binoculars at a very good price, they even came with a tripod stand. I paid for them and told the store owner that I would pick them up on the way home after work.

That evening I got home with my new purchase, I was about excited as a six year old hunters son after receiving his first .22 rifle. In fact I was so excited I had forgotten about the package I had found outside my door at lunch time. I quickly set up the binoculars and pulled the dining room chair across. She was there doing her yoga, so I positioned myself in such a way that I could not be easily noticed. I looked through the binoculars adjusting them till I had a clear view of the woman, they were amazing, it seems I had got more than I bargained for.

She was a slender redhead with well trimmed pubes to match. Her body was well toned, but she was not in any way masculine. Everything about her screamed woman. I guessed her boobs to be about thirty four C cup, her waist was a very satisfactory curve between her chest and hips. My cock started yearning for her.

She moved into what is probably the only yoga position that I knew the name of, the down dog, with her legs closer to the window giving me a perfect view of her pussy. My cock sprung to attention, she had incredible pussy lips. They were so inviting that I had to pull my cock out, so I stood up quick, undid my trousers and pushed them and my underpants down to my ankles. Sitting back down behind the binoculars I took my cock in hand and started playing with myself, nice and slowly.

She lay down flat on her stomach and moved her legs to either side, she was doing the splits, her legs moved until they formed a straight line at right angles to her body. All I could think of was how much I wanted to slip my cock into that gaping twat while massaging those incredible butt cheeks. My hand moved faster along the length of my cock until I came, some of it landed on the wall below the window, the rest ended up on the floor.

When her evenings yoga was over, I got up to go sort something out for my dinner and I noticed the package again. I took a knife out of the drawer and carefully cut the tape that was keeping it closed, inside the package I found a pair of binoculars, not quite the quality of the ones I had just bought. Was this a gift from her, did she know I was watching, What was I supposed to do with them, send them back? So many questions running through my mind.

The next day I found an envelope outside my door, same as the package, no delivery address, no return address, just my apartment number. I took the envelope in and opened it, in it was a piece of paper with two lines the first was a question "Like what you see?", the second was a statement "Stand up so I can watch" This had to be from her, the binoculars too.

That evening I decided to do what the note said. I masturbated standing up. Standing didn't permit me to look through my binoculars, so I had decided to use the ones from the package so that I had something to jerk off to, not just a memory. This evening she put on a real show which only convinced me more that the note and binoculars had been from her. She started off with the down dog, and when she moved down into the splits on her stomach, she slid her hand under her and started playing with herself. First of all she was just rubbing her finger up and down her slit, then she pushed two fingers into her pussy. After a while of pleasuring herself in this manner, she rolled over onto her back so that she could play with her breasts with the hand not playing with her pussy. My orgasm was far more intense tonight than it had been in a long time, some of my sperm landed on the window whilst the rest went on the wall or the floor.

The next day there was another envelope. On the piece of paper inside there were four words and a number. Thanks, come on over. 1653.

It was not the redheads apartment number.



Thanks Delia



I hardly recognised him when I saw him. I had been idly sitting on a bench along the river path about halfway through my daily walk when a guy came strolling along dressed in a business suit, which is unusual along the path where casual clothing is the norm. 

It is customary for people to greet each other, even strangers, along the river path so I glanced up and said, “Hi.”

It was he who recognised me first. He returned my greeting and then stopped in his tracks. “Tony?” he asked uncertainly. I looked up at him puzzled that he knew my name, and then I recognised him. “Adrian!” I exclaimed. 

It had been twenty years since I had last seen him. Back in those days he had been a bright eyed mischievous looking fellow, friendly and full of fun. Now he was plumper and balding, but he still had that impish look about him. 

We shook hands and went into those effusive lines people adopt when they haven’t met for a long time; “After all these years,” “You haven’t changed all that much,” “What have you been doing?” “I’m over here on a business trip,” and so on.

I said, “This calls for a bit of a celebration, let’s go to the Star and Bear and have a drink if you’ve got the time.”

“Sure,” he said, “I’ve finished what I came here to do and I’m just filling in time until my flight.” 

We left the river path and went into the town and entered the Star and Bear. After ordering a couple of beers we found a quiet corner table and began our reminiscing; “Do you remember when…?” “What about that time we…” “Do you ever see anything of the old gang…?” 

At one stage he mentioned his mother and in that instant memories came flooding back. Delia! The memory of her grown dim over the years but never quite forgotten now returned vividly to me. 

She was a widow; her husband had died about ten years before I got to know her. He’d been killed in the North African desert fighting back in 1942 and despite the fact she wasn’t a bad looking woman, she had never remarried. I believe that there were quite a few women like that. They were either married or engaged to guys who got killed during the Second World War, and somehow they could never fit in with anyone else.

Adrian went babbling on but I hardly heard what he was saying as the vision of Delia stood out sharply in my mind.

Back in those days she had been buxom with large breasts and strong looking legs. She had a mass of the blackest hair I had ever seen and it cascaded down to her shoulders in unruly waves; and there were her dark glittering eyes that always seemed full of impishness and gave the impression of looking right into you. Then there was her hearty laugh that when given full voice must have been heard a mile away. She was what people might call, “Larger than life,” and so overwhelming in her manner that I think I was a bit scared of her.

I met her through Adrian. We both belonged to a church “Young People’s Club”, as it was called. It was a follow on from the youth club and was for guys and girls in their late teens and early twenties. People tended to get married a lot younger in those days, so the club was really a sort of marriage mart. 

Adrian and I had been particular friends in those days and one evening around nine thirty when the club activities seemed a bit dull, we decided to head for home. We went off together because I had to go past Adrian’s place to get to mine. We got to his gate and as it was early he said, “Like to come in for a coke or something?”

I had never been inside his house so I decided that as it was still reasonably early I’d take the opportunity to have a look.

We went in and through to the lounge, or “parlour” as he called it. We entered a largish untidy room, the central item of furniture being a capacious sofa with cushions scattered haphazardly over it, and seated on it, or more accurately, in it, was Adrian’s mum.

Adrian introduced me and his mum rose and said, “Nice to meet you Tony; heard a lot about you from Adrian.” Her physical presence was quite overpowering. She was not overly tall, say about five feet five or six, but she gave the impression of being much taller. I was six foot something at the time with another half inch of growth still left in me, and although it was impossible, I felt as if she loomed over me.

Those glittering naughty eyes seemed to bore right into me as I said, “Good evening Mrs. Lane.”

She gave her hearty laugh and said, “Not Mrs. Lane, Tony, just call me Delia.”

I was somewhat at sea in this environment. My own mother, who was, I must admit, a trifle starchy and formal, would never have permitted such familiarity from my friends. In addition she was the houseproud type so I was used to an orderly and polished environment.

Delia had a habit of closing in on your personal space and as she stood close to me I detected a heady sensual odour that seemed to have nothing to do with perfume from a bottle, but seemed to emanate from her body. I found it to be both disturbing and exciting, but didn’t know why.

Adrian brought the drinks and finishing mine rather quickly I excused myself on the grounds that it was getting late and I had to get up early for work. Delia laid a hand on my arm and said, “Hope to see you again soon, Tony.”

My immediate thought on the subject was that Delia would not “see me again soon.” As I have said, I found her overwhelming and a bit scary. On second thoughts the next day however, I began to feel that perhaps she wasn’t all that bad, and both she and her house certainly presented a more fascinating aspect than our rather prosaic household.

I did not particularly expect that I would be invited into Adrian’s house all that often. We seemed to avoid bringing our parents into our relationship, but after that first visit the invitations came along frequently. From dropping in for a coke they extended to invitations to share a meal with them.

From that point I became a frequent visitor to the house, dropping in any time I was passing, or even making a special point of visiting. Gradually Delia became less awe-inspiring and more intriguing. Familiarity began to reveal a warm, soft maternal side to her which from embracing Adrian started to take me in as well. Where my own mother tended to be non-tactile in her relationship with me, Delia was for ever touching and hugging.

As we sat in the pub, Adrian still rattling on, there came to mind what for a long time I had thought of as, “That Day.”

I had dropped in one Saturday afternoon to see Adrian but was told he had gone out and would not be back until late evening. I was never the less invited in by Delia to “keep her company” for a while and have a cup of tea. Having nothing else in particular to do, I accepted the invitation and was, as usual, taken into the parlour.

Delia bustled off to prepare the tea and I flopped down in an armchair and contemplated the surrounding disorder. It seemed strange to me, because the place was not dirty or smelly, it was just very untidy and yet cosy. As a consequence, and since Delia had ceased to be frightening, I always felt very relaxed in their home.

Delia returned bearing a tray with the tea and some cakes on it. She put it on a small table, and after giving me my cup and offering the cakes, she plonked herself down on the sofa being embraced as it were by the heap of colourful cushions.

She began to speak about what sort of week she’d had and ask about mine. As the talk progressed she raised her feet off the floor and placed them on the front edge of the sofa. The skirt she was wearing fell back to about her mid-thighs. I found this rather disturbing but that was nothing to the shock I got when she parted her legs a trifle and I was confronted by a patch of dark hair at the top of her thighs.

For you who are of the present generation perhaps some explanation is needed. In those days sexual contact between young people was far less frequent than it is now. Contraception had nothing like the sophistication it has now and any sexual coupling was likely to end in pregnancy, so everyone, especially the girls, were very cautious in this regard.

Like many young guys at that time, I was still a virgin. Another thing was that females covered up a lot more than they do now. Thus I had never seen a female sex organ. I had seen posed pictures of nude women in magazines some of the guys got hold of, but even these never showed a vagina. 

Now, seated before Delia in the parlour, I was getting my first vision of female pubic hair.

“My God,” I thought, “she’s got no knickers on.” I tried to look away, but Delia, who must have been fully aware of her knickerless condition, seemed completely at ease. She smiled at me over her slightly parted knees, her eyes more glittering and mischievous than ever, her voice a husky contralto.

“Don’t sit over there Tony,” she said in what I suppose was an alluring voice. “Come and be friendly; sit with me.” She patted the seat of the sofa beside her. At the same time she opened her legs still further and I got my first look at a female sex organ as it seemed to glisten beneath its thin covering of hair.

Part of me wanted to drop my tea and cake and run, the other part was mesmerized by what was before me.

Seeing my hesitation Delia went on, “You’re not scared to sit with me, are you? Come on, I’m lonely over here.”

On shaking legs I rose, and placing my cake and rattling cup and saucer on the tray, I almost collapsed beside her.

“That’s better,” she said softly, “We can be comfortable now.”

We were very close, in fact her body was touching mine, and I became intensely aware of that female aroma I have mentioned before. It seemed more intoxicating than ever, and it was later that I discovered that this was one sign of a sexually aroused female.

Despite my feeling of panic I started to get an erection, and when her hand began to stroke my thigh I was nearly out of my mind with a mixture of confusion and lust.

As she continued to caress me she went on speaking very soft and low. “It’s nice to be friendly, isn’t it? Friends like to do nice things for each other, and we are friends, aren’t we, Tony? Very good friends; and I know what nice things we can do for each other. I know what young men like you need, so I want to do something nice for you.”

Her hand had begun to stroke my penis through the cloth of my trousers and she followed this by starting to undo the buttons of my flies.

“There’s something you’d like me to do for you, isn’t there, Tony? That’s what I’m going to do, make you feel good.”

She had my penis out and was stroking it gently.

“We know where this belongs, Tony, so why don’t we put it there.”

With that she lay right back on the cushions her legs wide open and extending her plump arms to me she said, “Come on darling, I’ll show you how.”

She drew me over her. I knew in theory what to do but it was her tender guidance that brought the tip of my penis to her vaginal opening. 

“Just push in, darling,” she said.

When I did push in I thought I had entered paradise. In my sexual naivety I had had no idea what it would feel like inside a vagina, but those of you who have been fortunate enough to have their first sexual experience with an older and caring woman, will understand my feelings of ecstasy.

The warm moist tunnel clinging to your penis, the flexing of a vaginal muscle seeming to pull you in to her depths, her gentle coaxing and crooning as she encourages you; “That’s right darling, all the way in then out and in again. When your ready just let it all go.”

Delia seemed utterly relaxed. She lay back just letting me experience her like a mother guiding her toddler as it learns to walk, but without any stress. There was none of the crying out and struggling that I experienced later, just her gentle encouraging words as if this was satisfaction enough for her.

I felt the first pulsating of sperm up my shaft and then came that experience that none seem to be able to describe in words. The triumphant pumping of one’s semen into a woman; the tremendous desire to plant your seed deep inside her, the primitive urge to impregnate, and then the peace of fulfilment that follows.”

As I relaxed over her Delia was still speaking; “That feels better, doesn’t it, darling. All that lovely sperm right were it belongs.”

I clung to her feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. She had given me her body in this act of friendship, or was it love?

She let me lay over her my penis still not withdrawn from her, stroking my face and hair and murmuring lovingly. I don’t think I had felt so at peace in my whole young life.

Delia stirred. “We’ve got plenty of time,” she said, “Let’s enjoy ourselves, shall we?”

I wasn’t sure what this meant so I asked, “What do we do.”

She gave another of her wicked looks and said, “How would you like to have a bath with me?” 

In those days most of our houses didn’t have showers and I was doubtful about the bath anyway. I had coupled with Delia with my trousers still on and I felt a bit shy about Delia seeing me naked. Never the less, with her gentle encouragement we headed for the bathroom.

Before actually getting to the bathroom Delia looked at my trousers and said, “My goodness, Tony, your flies are a bit of a mess.” I looked down to see that some of my sperm had overflowed, and in addition there was some fluid that had come from Delia. I was to learn that this fluid was a lubricant that women produce when sexually aroused. 

“We’ll give those flies a bit of a scrub,” Delia said, “and hope they’re dry by the time you leave.”

We went to the kitchen and Delia, getting me to take off my trousers, began the process of removing the mess. The trousers were put in front of a small electric fire to dry, and I noticed a pair of idly discarded knickers lying in one corner of the kitchen.

“But I can’t hang around with no trousers on,” I protested.

She gave her hearty laugh and said, “You won’t need trousers where you’re going, my boy.”

In the bathroom we stripped off and for the first time in my life saw a naked woman in the flesh. In the pictures I had seen the women all had firm up pointed breasts, or at least that’s how they had been posed. Delia’s breasts were huge and hung down with large brown nipples. I suppose I might have been disappointed except that they looked so soft and cuddly, as if inviting you to bury your head between them.

The bath proved difficult in that neither of us were small and the bath not large. But somehow we managed, and after Delia had paid particular attention to washing my penis, she instructed me in the art of washing her vagina, which was a far harder task. 


The main objective was to try and remove my sperm from her, and this meant getting my fingers up inside her. As I relaxed with her we began to laugh and joke, she saying, “Don’t want all that in me when you put the next lot in, do we?”

Despite the fact that her washing my penis had produced another erection, it had not occurred to me we would be having another intercourse. As if she understood my doubts on this score she said, “We’ll go to bed after the bath and make each other happy.”

“Happy” was the word to describe the next three hours. When I think of all the young people who get their sexual initiation in some uncomfortable environment like the back seat of a car, I feel very grateful to Delia for making my first experience such a relaxed and fun time.

Bed time meant more learning experiences. Delia began by nearly eating me when she began kissing. I thought her tongue would go halfway down my throat. When she held my head against her breasts she put her hand under one of them and brought a nipple to my lips.

“Suck me, sweet heart,” she crooned, “and nibble a bit if you feel like it, but not too hard.”

As I sucked her nipple she drew my hand to the other breast to press it, my fingers kneading into her soft warm flesh. For the first time Delia started to get noisy, sighing and giving little moans. Then I was shoved onto my back and her mouth took in the crown of my penis. Hell, I nearly shot my load I was so overcome.

Then very carefully she said to me, “There is something nice you can do for ladies, Tony, would you like to try?”

I was at the point where I would have agreed to almost anything she wanted, so not knowing what was about to happen I said, “Yes, if you want me to.”

Delia seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then said, “All right darling we’ll do it this way.” With that she moved to sit on the edge of the bed and lifted her feet up to place them on top of the bed, much as she had on the sofa.

She asked me to kneel in front of her so I was looking straight at her sex organ. She then proceeded to instruct me.

She placed her fingers on the lips of her vagina while I stared fascinated at my first vision of a female organ close up. She then proceeded to open the lips to reveal two pink petal like lips and also an opening.

She stayed like that for a few moments then asked, “All right, darling, do you like looking at me like this?”

I have to admit it was not how I expected the female sex organ to look. Quite what I had expected I don’t know, but it was not something that appeared so complex.

I tried to tell her how I felt and said something like, “It’s amazing.” She laughed and said, “Some men wouldn’t agree with you.”

Then she lifted up a little hood of flesh at the top of her vagina and I saw a nub of flesh. It had no significance for me until she said, “That’s where a woman can get tremendous pleasure if it’s touched properly.”

She placed her own finger on the little mound and began to circle it. After a moment or two of this she said, “Would you like to do that for me.”

I complied and soon she was making little whimpering sounds and then suddenly she gasped out, “Lick it for me darling.”

I had not bargained for this, but was about ready to do anything she asked of me, so I leaned forward and licked. There was a sort of musky taste and smell that nearly drove me berserk. I ended up licking and sucking all over her sex organ, my face getting soaked with the fluid she started to discharge.

I was almost beside myself when I was startled by Delia beginning to shake and cry out. Her hands came behind my head and held me to her. “Don’t stop, darling,” she gasped, then her cries rose to a scream and she was writhing on the bed.

It seemed a long time before she calmed down. It was certainly a learning day for me. Not only had I experienced a woman for the first time, but I had also been introduced to the female orgasm, of which I had never even heard until then, much less experienced.

When she had recovered she said, “That was wonderful darling, wonderful, you learn fast. Now suppose I do something for you.”

I was pushed onto my back again and she sat astride me. Enthralled I watched her lower herself onto my penis then drop down to take my full length. Then she stopped, just letting me rest inside her as she tormented me by flexing her vagina with a pulsating grip and release.

“Like that, sweetheart?” she asked.

“Oh God yes,” I moaned “I think I’m going to shoot again.”

With that she began to move up and down on me and that first agonising warning of my approaching ejaculation began and then I was pumping into her, gasping with every new thrust of semen until the last few drops dribbled from me. 

Still holding me inside her Delia drooped low over me, her breasts swinging against my chest. She smiled at me. “Beautiful, isn’t it, my love?”

I could barely gasp out my response, “Oh yes.”

If I thought that was the end of our love making, I was wrong. Over a couple of hours I was to discover the delights of being held to a woman’s breasts, and the exquisite pleasure of exploring each other’s bodies.

In the end I came into her again, but this time it was a long and relaxed coupling, both of us simply enjoying the delights of sexual union.




Thanks Delia



I staggered home in a dream, hugging my new found experiences to myself as if to prolong them.

Over the following year I was a regular visitor to Delia’s house. It was odd, I thought, but Adrian was either out when I arrived, or if not he suddenly seemed to discover that he had urgent business to attend to elsewhere.

I was serving an apprenticeship as a plumber at that time and about twelve months after we had begun our love making, I had to go away on a job up north. 

When I was confronted with this need to go away I declared to Delia I would give up my apprenticeship, I was in love with her and wouldn’t leave her.

“You may imagine you’re in love with me, Tony, but you’re not really. You feel gratitude for the good times we’ve had,” she said in a gentle voice. “And you’re not giving up your apprenticeship. You’ll come back and I’ll still be here if you want me. You go and perhaps you’ll find some other woman to give you what you need.”

Miserable I went to the job, and somehow never got back to her. I was moved from place to place, and I wrote long languishing love letters to her and got formal letters in reply. When I managed to get back home occasionally I called at her house, but got no answer.

So I never got back to her and memories of Delia began to fade but never quite disappeared. I met and married a girl with whom I have had three children. It was only now, sitting in the pub with Adrian that those memories flooded back in full spate.

Adrian was still prattling on and I cut right across his flow; “How’s your mother these days? 

He stopped talking, looked and me and grinned, and said, “I was wondering if you’d ask. You had a good time with her, didn’t you?”

“You knew?” I said, somewhat startled.

“Of course I knew,” he laughed. “After all, it was me who brought you to her. I got well rewarded for that.”

“What do you mean, rewarded?”

“Oh, a bit of extra spending money and anything I wanted in bed.”

“You mean…you and your mother…”

“Of course, you didn’t imagine you were the only one, did you?”

I was stunned and barely able to go on speaking.

“I…I…”

“Look, Tony, mum was a very passionate lady, still is for that matter. She also likes to be generous with her body. She loved having young blokes to teach. They never lasted long so she never had time to get tired of them. They went on their way rejoicing and she was left happy to have been of service and having got her own pleasure.”

“You mean there were other men?”

“Of course there was. I got most of them for her just like I got you. I’d bring a potential guy home, and if mum fancied him we would try and get him visiting regularly. I got most of the guys from the church club we used to belong to. Just as well the vicar didn’t know; he’d have had a fit.” 

“Mind you I got a bit worried about you and her. You lasted the longest except for me and I got the feeling she’d really fallen for you. It was lucky when that away from home job came up when it did.”

I was dumbfounded. I had been one of many including her own son.

Finally I managed to get on to an even keel and asked, “Well how is she?”

“Fine,” he said, “In fact I’m flying back home tonight, so I expect to get a great welcome.”

“You mean you still live at home with her?”

“You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you? I told you that.”

I pretended to recall and said, “Ah, yes. So you’ve stayed with her all these years, then?”

“Of course, wouldn’t you have done if she hadn’t sent you on your way? You’ve been with her…you know what she’s like…in bed I mean. Where could I get anything better than that?”

“You mean she’s still sexually…er…active?”

“And will be till the day she dies I reckon,” he replied. He gave a brief laugh and looked at me in a mischievous manner that reminded me of Delia.

“I once heard story,” he went on, “about a guy who asked his eighty year old mother when a woman stopped feeling sexual passion. She said, ‘You’ll have to ask a woman older than me’.”

I managed to laugh with him that time, and then asked a question that had puzzled me. “How come she never got pregnant I mean with me and you and the other guys. You hardly had to look at a girl in those days and she was in the family way.”

He looked at me quizzically for a moment, then said, “To tell you truth she’s never told me properly. I only know that after I was born the doctor reckoned she couldn’t have any more kids. Lucky for us, wasn’t it?”

I had one more question to ask him; “You know, I wrote to your mother after I left, and all I got back was very formal letters. Then when I got home occasionally I called round to your place, but never got any answer at the door.

“Yes, like I said,” he replied, “I reckon mum really fell for you, but she knew it was better not to get permanently entangled with a young guy like you. She knew she had to let you go. I know it hurt her badly, but she knew she had to do it.”

So that was it! She had given me my first sexual experience and had not only lusted for me, but had loved me enough to let me go. I wondered about Adrian, how he had felt about sexually sharing his mother, not only with me, but with heaven knows how many others. I didn’t ask him, but thought he might have the same generosity of spirit as Delia. 

We parted shortly after. I went back to the river path to complete my walk. As I went along I smiled to myself and thought, “Adrian is right, where could you get better than that. Thanks dear generous Delia, thanks for everything. Perhaps I shall be able to look you up some time and you’ll answer the door.” 



Thanks, Demon - I Needed That



Today I came face to face with a demon. I was surfing the Internet, and reading some stories at my favorite erotic literature site (Literotica, of course), and the thing leaped out into my mind and spacked me across the ego. I say it spacked me because demons spack, they don't smack. But that's another story.

So this demon spacked me across my ego good and hard, and boy did that get my attention. Just one good hard spack, and I was all ears. Of course, this was all going on in my mind, so I wasn't really all ears; but I was suddenly paying a lot more attention than I had been just moments before, let me tell you! And what this invisible but oh-so-unpleasant beast said to me shocked me. Knocked my socks off! Or would have, if I was the type to wear socks. (I prefer deck shoes without, or barefoot, thank you.)

This demon stood there, in my mind, and casually knocked my other thoughts out of the way with its invisible girth - what an odd word, girth, isn't it? - and stood there forming a hole which I could see through, all the while demanding that, of all things, I am a pornographer.

Pornographer? I'm a pornographer?! ME?!!

"Yes!" it screamed. "YOU! You are a pornographer! And you should stop lying about it. Face it, you're a pornographer."

"But, I -"

"Pornographer."

"I can't -"

"Pornographer!"

"But -"

"Are you fucking deaf or something? Jesus, man, face it! You're a fucking pornographer!"

I didn't know demons could say "Jesus".

"How am I a pornographer? I'm not a pornographer. I'm an artist! I'm a writer! I'm a photographer! But not a pornographer!"

"Fuck me in my dirty demon double ass, man, you fucking write porn for fun! You write pornographic stories. For fun. You are a pornographer."

"But I -"

"Let's look at this in geek speak, shall we? What do we have when we say 'pornographer'? We have the word 'porno' and the word 'grapher'. What's 'grapher' mean, Sherlock? That's right, it means 'writer'. And what's 'porno' mean? I don't think I have to spell that one out for ya."

I stood there, inside my own mind, stunned. This invisible demon bastard had cornered me quite effortlessly in an argument. Mainly because I argue logically, and it was right. I write sexually explicit fiction for fun. And call it what I may, it's porn. I'm a pornographer.

Wow. I just thought about it for a while. I'm a pornographer. Sure, writing is an art form, and I do strive to become a better writer when I write; and sure, my written works are an artistic expression for me in some ways... but there's also that fact that I write sexy stuff because it's an outlet for my raging, endless, unstoppable sex drive. That, and I love getting feedbacks.

So I'm thinking about this little self discovery, and another of the little sculptures in my mind begins to crumble. Each of these sculptures is one of my self delusions. I used to have one that was made of white marble, where I was depicted as a chivalrous knight in shining armor with sword and shield, racing to the rescue. That was one of the first to crumble. I also had one where I was perfect. That one went, too. I've been chipping away for years at the one where I'm always right, and I'm making progress... but my statue showing me as a romanticized poet-writer-artist turned to dust then, before my eyes.

"Yes," I thought. "I guess when you put it that way... I'm a pornographer."

I thought back to the time I'd been trying to learn something about photography from a guy I'd met online at the very same site I'd had this little demon jump into my mind from. He'd told me he was a pornographer, not a photographer. I was aghast. It was scandalous! At the time, I could not comprehend why any man would admit such a thing.

But I'm not a pornographer. Really, am I? I don't write what I write because I want to make money from it. At least, not so far. I write it because, well, it's a great way to vividly explore things I'll never get the chance to really do. Or, perhaps things I would never be able to bring myself to do for real. Such as fuck a plant. I'm sorry, but plant fucker, I am not. That's just the way it is. I cannot change that about myself.

To me, a pornographer was never someone who wrote erotica or X rated stuff, it was someone who created X rated visual experiences. The guy with the camera who would rent a hotel room and spend a few hours shooting women masturbating, spreading their legs, fucking themselves with various things, and pissing on the carpet just to be naughty. Or the guy who videotaped himself fucking his dog. Or girlfriend. Or both, maybe. That's what I always thought of as porn.

But I suppose I can no longer say I write erotica, because seriously, I've written several stories that are beyond just erotic. My one and only attempt at BDSM, for example. Surely that was porn? And my incest story? And...

But wait a minute, isn't porn supposed to be something that has no redeeming value otherwise? I mean, to me, most of my written works have been "erotica" because they were also excursions into the art of writing. They were designed to be better than my previous works, and they were designed to make my readers respond in a specific way. Usually, they succeeded; sometimes, they would be read by someone who, for no apparent reason, would read all thirty pages of a story and then conclude that they hated that particular genre. Personally, I think those people need to pull something out of somewhere, but we'll say no more about that here.

So, according to some, I'm a pornographer. Maybe I need to consider this some more. Because I never thought of myself as such. I always thought of myself more as an artistic free spirit who helped others enjoy themselves through my guiding words. Then again, there is no one definition of pornography, either.

Can I come to terms with being thought of by some as a pornographer? Will I assimilate this into my psyche and become a stronger person for it? Because really, what I'm doing here is facing reality. It isn't pleasant for me on some levels, but then again, logically I see nothing to feel ashamed of, and nothing to feel bad about. In being honest with myself, I'm shedding light on some of the hidden corners of myself, and hopefully clearing away the spiders and their webs, too. Honestly, who wants spiders and spiderwebs in their minds? Not me. Bad enough we have house spiders. Although most of them have decided there's less chance of being murdalized if they remain outside, come to think of it. And I have been known to murdalize 'em.

So maybe I'm a pornographer after all. Then again, maybe not. In any case, you have to admit, sometimes demons are useful. After all, if this one hadn't shown up and disrupted my little party, I'd still have no clue that - gasp - I might be a pornographer. Now would I? And that couldn't possibly be a good thing. And you, dear reader, wouldn't have had this little wander through my rambling mind. 

Thanks, demon. I needed that. 



Thanks for Being My Wife



I would like to thank you my love for an unbelievable day. The day of the two haircuts will live in my memory for a very long time. The afternoon visiting with our friend, Randy was very pleasant and I enjoyed very much the great trim job you gave me. Thank you for being the open woman you are and allowing my hands to fondle your body. I really enjoy the sexiness of you cutting my hair while I feel your fine legs and ass; I hope you cut my hair for the rest of my life. Then to watch as you cut our friend Randy's hair, doing a fantastic job of cleaning up the mess he had, was a joy in itself. Watching as you moved around him, cutting his hair and allowing him to playfully tease with you certainly turned me on, it looked like it was fun for you also. Then when I came out of the house and Randy was wearing your underwear on his head I realized you were having fun and being able to be open and sexy at the same time. 

My mind's eye is filled with the vision of you in the bathroom finishing Randy's haircut. Your dress being raised above your ass as Randy playfully teased you. Then in one swift motion Randy lowered the straps of your dress and it fell from your breasts and dropped to the floor. I enjoyed the view of you blow drying his hair while your breasts were exposed just inches from his face, watching Randy's hands sliding up and down the inside of your thighs then move around your ass and cup your cheeks. After finishing Randy's haircut you slipped your dress back on and joined me in the hallway and we walked to the kitchen where the camera was. It was fun kissing you in the kitchen while Randy took our pictures. Along with the smile on your face and the fun in your laughter, these images are still with me today. 

When we began playing our game, In Control, I was very aroused and excited. The first time watching you kiss Randy, your lips blending together, tongues meeting, what a turn on for all of us. Removing your dress as the first Remove Clothing card was drawn, sitting there before us with your luscious breasts exposed, your clean shaved pussy just below the table, I know I was hard and I know Randy was also. Listening to your tales when you drew the card as you described fucking Randy in the bedroom when I was trying to watch, this continued my excitement and made the game so much more fun. Taking Randy's sweater in exchange for your dress and watching you remove it when we traded the sweater for my shorts. The sight of you removing your clothes in front of our friend is very exciting. You know how turned on you make me when you wear sexy clothes or reveal yourself to others. 

I marveled at your fine body sitting topless with just my shorts on. Your nipples were hard and erect and when I felt your breasts they were supple and soft. Again watching you kiss Randy across the table for the second time was a treat. My favorite view of your breasts are when you are bent over and as I sat watching you kissing your nipples were erect and your breasts were only inches from my face. Your questions about our friendship when you drew the Truth cards were fun and informative, Randy and I share the same fondness for each other and truly love you and love being with you. Your accepting my dare for you to suck on Randy's dick just inches from my face made my cock that much harder, I was stroking it under the table as I watched your lips work back and forth on his hard cock. I watched as you pulled his foreskin back and the head of his cock came out and into your mouth. Your luscious body next to me, breasts exposed, sucking on our friend, this just about made me come in my hand. 

Playing more of the game added to the suspense and fun of the night and when Randy dared me to fuck you I knew I had to have you, to feel my cock slide in and out of your shaved pussy. The vision of you bent over the kitchen table, your fine figure before me, the curves of your torso, a truly vision of loveliness. Your tight ass was at the perfect level to accept my hard dick; this moment is burned into my mind. Then the feel of your wet pussy as my cock slipped in and out was pure joy. As my hands held your hips and I drove my cock into you I noticed our friend Randy watching, enthralled by the scene before him, his cock standing out in front of him. I motioned for him to take my place so I could watch my beautiful wife, bent over the table, being fucked by one of my best friends. I know you enjoyed it also as you told us to look in the mirror as Randy held your hips. His asking several times if he should come in you and your telling him yes and asking him to fuck you over and over again was incredible. 

Then as I went to the floor in an effort to lick your pussy while Randy slid his cock in and out of you gave me a great view of your naked pussy and his hard cock, meeting with each thrust. Although I could not get in position to lick your pussy at that time the sight of your fucking was fantastic. After Randy shot his come into you and you both came in an orgasm the sight I will never forget filled my eyes. The strongest memory of the night is of you lying across the table on top of the game, your legs spread and your freshly fucked naked pussy so juicy and inviting. I had to lick your pussy then and as I did I could not believe how hot and sweet you tasted. As I had only started licking your pussy you started telling me to fuck you and I admit that when I slid into your pussy it was an incredible sensation. Your perfect pussy was so hot and ready to fuck and my cock was hard and ready to fuck also. Taking you by the hips I watched as Randy sucked on your nipple as I gave you everything I had, the sensation was too much and as I came you were bucking on the table. You were so hot, not just physically but visually also, lying on the table, come coating your pussy and Randy sucking on your breast. Then when you asked us to give you a hickey on your tits I knew I was in love with a woman who loves to have fun and loves to fuck. You were so nasty and I love that so much, I was and am caught up in everything about you. 

When we bid our friend goodbye and went to bed the night was not over. For the first time I can remember you were really into telling a fantasy as I slid my cock into your pussy for the second time. Your telling of how you would be fucking Randy in the afternoon when I came home, describing what he would do to you and what you would do to him drove me to another orgasm. I came just as you were telling me you were going to call him on Monday to come over and fuck you in the afternoon. Your story lasted quite a while and I relished the time you spent telling it and the enjoyment you derived from being fucked while you were telling such a nasty story. Your description of the happening was painted very clearly and I can visualize coming home and finding the two of you together on our bed, fucking and sucking and enjoying each other's company and bodies. The night was capped off with your vibrator as I tried to share a similar story with you. However you had done such a visual job with your story I had a hard time concentrating on telling the story and watching you with the vibrator also.

That day was one of the most memorable days of pure sex and fun I have ever had. That day can only be topped by the times we spend alone together enjoying each other. We all had fun that day and kept perspective while we enjoyed each other's company and each other's bodies. The three of us share something very special when it comes to sex and I hope that there may other times when we can enjoy each other. I know that whenever or whatever you choose to do in the future I am anxious to be at your side. Should there not be another time when we can have such fun it is of no consequence because I cherish the memory of this day as well as the memory of other fun times we have had together. 

Jolene, thank you so much for being my lover, my best friend, my confidant and most of all for being my wife. I love you with all of my heart and soul and appreciate you for the many facets of your personality and character. You are my TRUE LOVE and each day I fall more and more in love with you. The many days of our future shine bright in my eyes; I want to share everything in this world with you.

I LOVE YOU!!

ALWAYS YOURS,

Bernard 



Thanks for Coming



Every so often there's a person that comes along that you instantly lust after. Maybe it's a co-worker, a cashier at the store, or some random person that crosses your path. This story is about one such scenario where I instantly fell in lust with a man I saw at the store. I like to think that this is what would have happened if I had had the courage to talk to him that day.

I welcome your feedback and hope that you enjoy my story!

All characters are over the age of 18.

*****

I glance at my list to make sure that I have everything I need before heading to the check-out lanes. The store's not too busy this time of day so I'm able to maneuver my cart around with little difficulty as I make my way through the aisles. 

'Great, only two lanes are open,' I think to myself and quickly decide which is the lesser of the two evils. One lane has three people while the other has four. Sighing in frustration I push my way towards the shorter line and lean on my cart to wait. Living in a small town has its perks but having one store for everyone's needs and then only staffing two lanes was not one of them.

I don't even notice the man in front of me until I accidentally push my cart into his legs when I lean too hard on it and push it forward. 

"I am so sorry! Are you okay?" I ask as he turns around to see what's going on behind him. I'm instantly at a loss for words when he turns to face me. He's not handsome in the classic sense but his rugged looks are what turns me on the most. He's dressed in a simple worn work shirt and jeans, a sweat-stained black cowboy hat and dusty work boots. As I stare, the lines around his mouth deepen and I realize he's quite a bit older than me. Maybe 20-30 years? To be honest, I can't say what it is about him that is affecting me this way but for the first time in my life I know what lust is and I realize that I really, really want this man.

Visions of his cock disappearing into my mouth are interrupted with a start when I realize that he's talking to me!

"Um, I'm sorry. What was that?" I try not to stare but it's hard not to at this point. At 31, I'm not a blushing virgin and have been with several men over the years but you'd think that I was a cock-hungry slut the way I was thinking about this complete stranger! 

"I said I'm good," his voice is sexy and I try not to get distracted again by pressing my fingernails into my palms, wincing at the pain.

"Oh, right. Are you sure?" 

"Yep."

"Well, okay then." He is at the front of the line so he moves his attention away from me. My eyes gaze at his ass then move back up to find that he's looking right at me! My cheeks get hot in embarrassment and I look away.

I wage an inner war with myself over what to say or do next the whole time he is checking out and it's not until I see that he is almost done that I decide to write my name and number on a piece of paper to hand to him. My hands are shaking with nerves as I walk around my cart, "Excuse me?" I sound more calm than I feel as he turns to look back at me.

"Um, I want you to have this," I say. "I, um, well...call me if you ever need anything. Or want to sue me for damages from my cart," I say this as a joke but it just comes out all wrong and I cringe inwardly. 'Smooth, genius' I think.

His eyes flick down to the paper before coming back up to meet mine, his lips curling up into a shy smile before taking it from me. I'm not sure what he thinks of me at this point but all I know is that this latest turn of events is not going like I had played it out in my head. I'm not sure what I thought was going to even happen and really don't expect him to ever call me.

"Thanks. My names Curt, by the way." 

"Diane."

"Nice meeting you."

"You too." He holds the paper up in a farewell wave as I turn back to unload my cart. Thankfully nobody else was behind me so I take my time, thinking about what had just happened.

It's only when I look up at my cashier that I see her huge grin at what had just taken place. I'm sure people exchange numbers all the time in public but it probably wasn't that common in the check-out lane at Wal-Mart and I knew it was going to be the gossip of the day, especially when I realize she's the mother of one of my students. 

//

The ringing of my phone has me scrambling to figure out where it went. I'm grading homework and papers are scattered all around me on the floor as I pause to figure out where the ringing is coming from. Aha! I grab it on the last ring, thinking it's my mom wanting to know what I'm bringing to the barbecue tomorrow.

"Hello?" 

All I hear is silence so I repeat myself, "Hello? Mom?" I pull the phone from my ear to look at the number, and not recognizing it, I again repeat, "Hello? Who's this?"

"Um, hi. This is Curt." I almost choke on the sip of wine I had just taken when I hear his words. I had forgotten all about giving him my number once I had become absorbed in the task of grading eleventh grade Algebra homework so his call had taken me by surprise.

"Is this a bad time?" he asks when he is met with nothing but silence.

"No, no. I'm just doing homework. I mean, I'm grading homework...for my students. I'm a teacher," I rush to explain.

His soft laugh eases my nerves some but my heart is pounding in my chest. "I just wanted to call and say that I've decided not to file a law suit. You know, I could have had serious leg damage. Good thing you're so good looking or I might have really considered it." I can hear the teasing in his tone so I decide to just roll with it.

"Is that so?"

"Yep. But..."

"But what?" I ask

"You have to grab a drink with me at the bar."

"What? Now?!" I glance at the clock and see that it's almost nine.

"Well, I'm only in town for the weekend and head out on Monday. So, yeah."

"Oh, well I guess."

"Geez! Way to bruise a man's ego, Diane." 

"No, no, no! I didn't mean it that way," I rush to explain before I manage to offend him further. "I'm not dressed to go out but give me thirty minutes and I'll be there. Which bar? PJ's or Larry's?"

"I'm teasing, honey," he rushes to assure me. "Which one is better? I've never been to either one."

"Well, PJ's is pretty cheap and they have pool tables while Larry's has live bands on Friday nights." Almost as an afterthought I add, "Or you could just come here." I slap a hand to my mouth and silently groan at my forwardness, my eye searching out the ceiling in embarrassment. 

"I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear the last part because I don't think that you actually meant for that to come out. So, let's see. Live music but we can't hear each other or a game of pool in awkward silence. You're choice, darlin'."

I'm not in the habit of bringing strange men home but I feel strangely safe with him. Hard to believe since he's a complete stranger but I have pretty good radar for men and nothing had pinged to make me wonder about him yet.

"Actually, why don't you come here? I have booze and it'd be much quieter than the bar." I quickly explain my reasoning of being a high school teacher and not wanting to be seen picking up a man at the bar, especially in a small town where everybody talks.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm sure." I give him the address and directions and say goodbye.

I glance around the living room and rush to put the papers on the floor into a pile, setting them on the kitchen table as I rush to my bedroom to find something to wear and to throw on some make-up. I only have 20 minutes so I coat my lashes with some mascara and dab my cheeks with blush, squirting on some body spray for good measure. My dress hits just above my knees to show off my toned legs and it's low cut enough to show my modest cleavage without being too low to display everything I have. I quickly check to make sure I have condoms and lube before I head back to the living room. 

I hear the low growl of a diesel engine and glance out the window to see a pair of headlights turning into my driveway. I can't make out the make or model in the dark but the interior light comes on then clicks off again as he closes the door behind him.

I move to meet him at the front door, not knowing what else to do. His hand is raised to knock as I open it and we stand in silence, both feeling awkward and at a loss for words. He's changed into a red button-down Western shirt, his polished belt buckle softly gleaming in the light from the house. He's wearing a cleaner hat this time and I notice that his jeans are neatly pressed. I swallow hard when my gaze runs across his crotch and slowly raise my eyes to meet his. 

"Hi," I shyly say.

"Hi." The corners of his eyes crinkle as he gives me a big smile. 

"Come on in." His hand moves to take his hat off before entering the house. His light brown hair is short but liberally dusted with grey and I can smell his aftershave as he moves past me.

My pussy throbs weakly in my panties but I ignore it as I turn to fully face him once I securely close the door behind him.

"You have a really nice place," he says as he glances around. 

"Thanks! I bought it three years ago when I moved back here to take a teaching position. My family helped me remodel it."

"So, you're a teacher. What do you teach?" He places his hat next to my pile of papers on the table before moving around the room, looking at my family pictures and college diplomas I'd so proudly hung on the walls next to some colorful artwork my students had made me years ago when I was a substitute teacher for an art class. That was before I had gotten my first real teaching job as a math instructor.

"What can I get you to drink? Beer, wine, whiskey, a gin and tonic?"

"Beer's fine." He finally sits on a stool at the breakfast bar and watches me walk towards him with his drink. I pour myself another glass of wine as I lean over the counter across from him, knowing full well he can see down my dress. The thought turns me on and I get lost in my thoughts before he interrupts me again.

"Diane?"

Crap! I'd forgotten that he'd asked me a question. "Sorry! I promise I'm not this spacey all the time. Let's see, I teach eleventh grade algebra at the high school and coach the cheerleading squad."

"Wow! Impressive!"

"And what do you do, Mr. Curt?" I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he takes several swigs of beer before placing it back on the counter.

"I deliver bulls and horses to rodeos around the country."

"Interesting...do you like it?

"Most of the time. Sometimes it gets lonely being on the road so much but I get to meet a lot of great people." His blue eyes are staring holes through me so I take another gulp of wine. Thoughts are swirling in my head now and every single one keeps coming back to why I had asked a stranger to my house. There's no denying that I'm turned on though. My pussy is throbbing and my nipples are hard. No man has ever gave me this kind of reaction without even touching me and I just want to get him into my bed.

Silence descends between us but the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I can see his eyes moving to my breasts and then back again to my face, looking for direction as to where to go from here. In a move that is very unlike me, I decide to get things rolling and move around the counter towards him. 

He turns towards me on the stool as I near and his legs spread as if to invite me closer. I happily take him up on the challenge and step between them, running my hands up his arms to circle his neck. Curt's eyes briefly close when I run my fingers through his hair and run them back down his neck so I can pull him closer to me.

His hands run up my bare legs, lifting my dress slightly, coming to a stop on my ass cheeks. That's the only signal I need. My lips find his and we start a battle with our tongues, feeling and tasting each other's mouths. At one point he bites my bottom lip and I groan into his mouth.

Without warning he stands up. His hands releasing my ass to circle around my back, pulling me so tight to him I can feel the buttons on his shirt pressing into my chest and his belt buckle digging into my stomach.

He bends me back slightly and kisses me so long and deep, I forget everything but the growing wetness between my legs. The feeling of the hard counter behind me makes me jump in surprise but I quickly forget when he pulls the sleeve of my dress and bra strap off of my shoulder, exposing the top of my breast to his gaze. 

He's working his way down my neck, stopping to suck and bite here and there and I'm almost panting with lust! Those movie and romance novel sex scenes are tame compared to what's going on in my kitchen. I'd never put much stock into people's descriptions of sex this hot, but now I think that I understand.

My head leans to the side to give him better access as he holds me to him with one hand, the other finding its way back up my dress to press my ass against him. I hold onto the counter behind me to ease the painful pressure of the counter digging into my back but I press his head down to me, wanting more.

"Let's go to the bedroom," I manage to get out. He immediately releases me and tells me to lead the way. 

We no sooner clear the doorway and he's on me again. He's lifting my dress up over my head as I fumble for his belt, trying to undo the buckle until he pauses to help me, undoing his fly so I can snake a hand inside to feel his cock. His groans fill my ears as we kiss again. "God, I want you so bad," I manage to get out.

He groans loudly in approval and soon clothes are flying across the room as we silently communicate what we want from each other, pushing and pulling as we feel each other's bodies pressed against the other. 

I drop to my knees, gazing at his cock and balls, reaching my hand out to feel him. He's a bit thicker than I'm used to but he's not huge; his balls hang down between his legs and I decide that I want to taste them first. Ducking my head under I gently suck one ball into my mouth and hear him cuss as he hands find the back of my head to hold me to him. I push back against his thighs so he'll let me pull back and then I treat the other one the same, sucking and rolling it around in my mouth. I love balls and his are no exception as I repeatedly suck and release, bathing each one with my saliva. I look up several times to find his head thrown back. I glide my tongue around his balls and trace a vein up his shaft before working my way back down again, listening to his moans rumbling through his chest. 

Deciding that he'd had enough teasing, I lick from the base of his balls up to the tip of his cock, licking up all of the precum oozing from his tip. I love his taste and suck on just the head to pull more of his juices from him. His "fuck" comes out in a low groan and I look up to see his throat working as if he's trying to control himself.

My hand slides up his thigh and over to hold the base of his cock so I can get a better angle as I suck deeper. I concentrate on my rhythm and the depth of my sucking, being careful not to graze him with my teeth as I work lower. I remember a porn video I had watched last week and stop what I'm doing to pull back. "Get on the bed."

"What? Why?" 

"Because I want you to suck my pussy while I suck your cock." A devilish grin breaks out on his handsome face as he realizes what I want. 

"How can I say no to that?" His cock bobs in front of him as he walks over and climbs onto the bed, moving up so I can straddle his face with my legs.

I feel his tongue parting my pussy lips and from his soft words of approval, I don't think that he minds that I keep my pussy neatly trimmed and not shaved. I look down my body and just watch him lick and swirl around my opening to gather my juices before sliding up to my clit. The first touch of his tongue on my sensitive flesh and I close my eyes to enjoy the sensation. I can feel the warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue as he moves it around my folds and lips; when he flicks my clit, I can't stay still anymore and start to move against him. I need more friction and sigh happily when he runs his finger in and around my pussy. His arm is slung across my back, pressing me down to his face. "Damn you taste good," he murmurs just before I reach to grab hold of his cock again. He's even harder than before, my shoulder-length blonde hair falling around my face as I again lick the precum from the tip of his cock.

I can feel my pussy start to tighten and I know I'm not going to last much longer when his thumb replaces his finger and presses down on my clit, rubbing it in circles as he continues to lick all around my pussy. Every so often he sucks on my clit before resuming his rubbing and I stop what I'm doing to once again feel all of the sensations he's giving me. 

My hand hasn't stopped stroking his shaft so it's not surprise when I look down and see that his balls are tightening up against his body. I want to taste him, another first for me since I've never cared for the taste of semen. I plant my mouth around his dick and suck the head in and out as I stroke him, his sucking matching my own. I can't believe how good this is and realize I'm about to cum, grinding down onto his face just as his cock jumps in my hand and he spurts a huge load of cum into my mouth. I swallow fast but almost choke as I start to cum too. 

As I come down I can feel him softly rubbing my clit. My hand has stopped moving on his cock and when I look down my body I see him staring back at me. With reluctance I release his softening penis, twisting my body around so I can lay my head on his chest. His arms come around me, my fingers running through his chest hair in contentment. 

"Fuck that was good. I think I knew where everything was headed when you gave me your number after I caught you staring at my ass earlier today but I had no idea it'd go this far this fast." 

How do I explain that I wanted him as soon as I saw him without sounding cheesy and cliché? "Are you wishing we'd gone slower?" I ask with caution.

"Well, dinner and drinks would have been nice but I don't think you could have kept your hands to yourself." I realize he's teasing me so I give his nipple a pinch. "Ow! Geez! First you insult me and then you bruise me...again! Maybe I should think twice before jumping into bed with violent, hot, young women!"

"Wimp!" I laugh, "Guess you can't handle it. Ever hear the phrase 'No pain, no gain'?"

"It's not supposed to apply to sex!" 

"It can a little bit," I barely hold my index finger and thumb together, flashing a mischevious grin at him.

We spend the next couple of hours just talking about life, the conversation breaking off into different subjects until we both start to nod off. 

I'm just about asleep when I hear him ask me if I'm cold. "Just throw the blanket at the end of the bed on, we'll be fine."

"Yes, ma'am."

I'm not sure how long we're asleep but it's still dark outside when my eyes slowly open. Curt's arm is thrown across my waist as he spoons me, my ass nestled in his crotch. My mind wanders to the oral sex we had shared earlier in the night and I feel my pussy start to get wet again. I want to feel him in me this time and I think of what it will feel like to have him fill me with his cock.

I slowly untangle myself from his arms and work around in the dark so my face is level with his cock. It's hard to really get at him when he's curled up like he is so I gently push on his hip to get him to roll onto his back. I can see his limp penis and it's like my mouth has a mind of its own as my tongue reaches out to touch him. I can still taste the remnants of his semen as I work to clean him, feeling him harden and lengthen under my careful ministrations. 

I brace myself on the bed as I scoot up onto my knees, bending forward to slowly suck his now hard cock into my wet mouth. I feel him move under me and I pause to look over at him. He's awake but he doesn't say a word, only moving his eyes to watch what I'm doing.




Thanks for Coming



Deciding he's hard enough for what I have in mind, I move to straddle his pelvis, leaning over to open the drawer on my nightstand to fish for a condom. Finding one, I tear it open with my teeth and move to cover his cock with the latex. 

I think that I'm wet enough so I move up and over his cock, just letting it press against my entrance for a few seconds. His arms wrap around me to pull me to him for a kiss when he bucks his hips up, pressing more of his cock inside of me. The head of his cock is starting to rub against my G-spot so I break our kiss to sit up, bracing myself on his chest as I slowly sink down his length. His ball hair tickles my ass once I'm fully penetrated and I just sit there, concentrating on the sensations running through my pussy. Not finding anything else to do with his hands, he's softly kneading my breasts and pinching my nipples.

"You're so tight, baby." I gently push his fingers away, throwing my head back and moaning out my pleasure as I pinch and pull on my nipples, rocking back and forth with my hips. Every so often he bucks his hips up, sending his cock deeper into me. 

His thumb joins the action by pressing and rubbing on my clit and I again moan my approval. My body's tightening up and sensing that I'm getting close, he rubs harder and holds his body still; letting me set the pace. 

My hips rock harder against him and soon I can feel myself tipping over the edge. A final pinch to my left nipple and I cum, coating his cock and balls in my juices. He growls out another "Fuck" before taking control, grabbing my hips and pumping up into me so hard I fall forward and barely miss smacking my head on his as I throw my hands out to brace myself.

With a twist of his body, he pins me underneath him. His cock slips out but he quickly guides it back into my wet hole and fucks me long and hard. He's already cum once tonight so he's able to last longer than I had expected. He glides in and out of my pussy with ease and I whisper words of encouragement. "God baby, that's good. Right there, please don't stop..."

He pulls out again and guides me over onto my stomach, laying on top of me to penetrate me from behind. I spread my legs to give him more access but the angle is bad and he can't get really deep into his thrusts. His mouth finds my neck, nuzzling and kissing it while our fingers twine together in a lover's embrace. He rocks into me and soon I feel a small, but no less pleasurable, orgasm ripple through my vagina. 

I can tell he's getting close by the pounding of his heart against my back and the deeper, harder thrusts of his cock accompanied by words muffled into my neck. Just as he's getting ready to cum, he raises up onto his arms and gives one final thrust. I can feel the base of his cock jump slightly as he cums into the condom. 

One more thrust and he pulls out, collapsing on the bed next to me. 

I let him catch his breath for a couple of minutes, running my hand over his chest and up to his face in a gentle caress. 

"Curt?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming over."



Thanks for Everything!



Holi is a mid-summer colourful festive event in India, when a married woman allows strangers to touch her body on the pretext of applying colour without incurring her husband's displeasure. This was one such Holi, when I got to taste forbidden pleasures.

Then, I was working for one of India's largest corporate houses. Since I was working in a factory, there were hardly 3-4 female co-workers. One of the female co-workers happened to be Sreelatha with a dark complexion, not quite pretty but had a voluptuous figure to die for. Gossip mills were grinding about her – some said she was married & hiding her marriage, some said she was a plain bitch & open for copulation. Whatever the truth maybe, the mystery around her was only increasing my desire to fuck her. I regularly masturbated by thinking about her in various places. Only that, I never imagined that it will actually happen without notice.

It's just like that, that we had become good friends after working together for last 6 months. We had also joined in the same batch of recruitment. And then Holi arrived.

On the day of Holi, as planned my group of friends together set out for our friends & colleagues' houses to throw some colour on our other friends & colleagues & apply some on each other's faces. Initially, we had decided to visit only our male colleague's houses. However, as Sreelatha's house fell on the road to one of our male colleagues' house, one of our friends' insisted on applying colour to her also. Although, I was a bit of the shy type & initially objected to the request, I agreed under pressure only to be a lame viewer while they would be applying the color to Sreelatha's face.

After reaching her house, as soon as Sreelatha opened her door, my friends pounced upon her & forcefully began to apply colour to her face. She was wearing a T-Shirt & pair of Jeans. She strongly resisted the attempts but finally bore the ordeal smilingly as all of us were colleagues. Amidst the noisy atmosphere & cheers from our friends, she whispered me to a corner & asked me to apply some colour to her face. I took some colour from my pocket & gently applied to her face & shoulders. As, I touched her smooth face, I became aware of a strange pleasant feeling in my trousers, which was making me weak. While I was applying colour to her face, she asked me to come again to her house in the afternoon for helping her with her furniture, but this time alone. 

After applying colour, our group had some heavy lunch & then proceeded to our respective houses for a nap. Meanwhile, after changing my clothes, I prepared for going to Sreelatha's house, as she had asked me to visit her. At that time, I had no inclination about what lay in store for me.

As, I knocked on her door, she gently nudged me to come inside & asked me to sit on the chair. Sreelatha was wearing a simple nightgown. The entire room was dark even in the late afternoon & all the windows were shut. She smelt of a expensive fruity perfume & the room smelt of some flowery room freshener. She asked me if I would like to have hot coffee or Juice. I said OK to tea & she went inside saying that she would be back within a few minutes with the coffee.

After a few minutes she came back with the coffee & while she lowered her body to serve the tea, the front half of her nightgown fell before me & her luscious breasts & nipples were completely exposed before me. My penis jumped to attention. I still do not know whether it was done purposefully or it happened accidentally. While sipping coffee, we were both chatting on company & family affairs. As we finished the coffee& were preparing for some other topic for discussion, she suddenly asked me if I had been close to a girl or liked a girl at any point of time. I sheepishly said no. The she replied with laughter that I was not speaking the truth & that she had caught me seeing nude pics. I was caught dumbfounded by the frank chat & again sheepishly said yes. Then, she asked me what I would do if I saw a naked girl. I stammered while telling her that I believed that I was born without such kind of luck. Suddenly, in the middle of my sentence, she came close to my chair & then came so close to my face that all her loose hairs fell on my face. My blood shot up & my entire body heated up. She told me to touch her & asked me whether I could do 'IT'. I raised my hands & touched her face, neck, shoulders. She too began touching my face, ears, neck & my shoulders and then all things began to happen one after the other.

She swiftly opened my T-Shirt buttons & caressed my bare chest. I gently caressed her tennis-ball shaped young boobs over her dress. While, she tugged at my T-Shirt, I was trying to unbutton the damn nightgown. My T-Shirt came off easily, while I fumbled at her buttons. She looked desperate. She called me a stupid, ignorant fool & then herself took off her nightgown in one swift stroke & then threw it aside. She wasn't wearing any panty or underwear. She stood stark naked in front of me covering her boobs with her hands. I noticed she had tight young boobs & a little stubble on her vagina. Then, she put her hands on her hips & watched me intently for few seconds. 

She commanded me to get up from the chair. I got up & went close to her. She embraced me loosely & my hands were moving all over her. She fumbled at my pant buttons. I opened my trouser buttons myself, lowered my zip & threw away my pants not bothering to care where they fell. She pulled down my Jockey underwear & made me stark naked. The entire room was pervaded with the smell of skin & sex, the silence in my ear was deafening. I did not know what I was doing. We were in a tight embrace, my hands roamed all over her back, tight ass & the back of her neck. She was kissing me passionately & her hands were roaming all over my back & ass. 

We dropped down to the cold floor right there itself, unable to stand upright or even to go to the bedroom as we both felt completely weak to our intense passions. I kissed her face, ears, bit her nipples, and ravaged her breasts. I kissed her stomach, tongued her belly, & lowered my mouth into the most prized crevice. All the while, she was just playing along either by simply lying still with her hands spread wide in either direction or by caressing my head & hair. I also kissed her legs & knees in between as I wanted to enjoy every part of this mystery woman.

I lowered my mouth into her rose valley & dug my nose into her cunt. As I was a virgin, slowly a pent-up feeling grew in my private parts. Her vagina smelt dirty, the smell of piss but at that time, it smelled like heaven to me. I continued sweeping, madly digging her vagina with my nose & pulled her clit by my teeth. All the time, she was continuously licking her own lips & muttering Ahh!! Ohh!! Hmm!!. which encouraged me further. 

After about 15 mins of snuggling her nether areas, I turned her around so that her tight young ass was directly staring at me. I kissed her entire back, then fondled, grabbed & bit her ass & sniffed & sniffed. Then parted her ass cheeks & licked the insides of her shiny ass. Finally, after turning her around, I paused for a moment & then grabbed my erect penis & began to insert my penis into her vagina. Suddenly, she caught my penis & stopped me from going further. I asked her why she was stopping me. In between gasps & touching my shoulders, she asked me to do anything to her except inserting my penis into her vagina. 

As I was content with just enjoying her body & not quite interested in penetration, I continued my biting her & torturing her body. I behaved like a male chauvinistic, not once asking her whether she was enjoying. 

After an endless moment of playing with her, I sadly realised that could not hold back my climax any longer. As the ultimate moment came, I held her tightly by wrapping my arms around her, settled my cock into her valley in a way that only my curly hairs were entangled with her bush hairs & waited for the throbbing to begin.

It happened & ended soon. My entire body convulsed involuntarily, my penis throbbed in ecstasy & with one jerk violently spewed a huge blob of semen on her vagina, belly & thighs. We were both panting & sweating heavily. I rested my face on her neck, while she gently caressed my neck & back with her fingers. There was a sweet smile on her face. I asked her whether she was satisfied but no sound came out of her. She just lay there beneath me, eyes shut with a sweet gentle smile on her face. The chirping of birds & the rustle of leaves gradually became louder, after few moments of utter silence.

After few minutes of lying together, we got up with wobbly legs & while absent-mindedly gathering our clothes, were laughing at each other's naked bodies. This time I prepared coffee & after chatting for a few minutes, I left her house after thanking her profusely for discovering my manhood in me. That day, the road to my home seemed a long distance & once there I collapsed in a heap due to extreme exhaustion. From the next day, in our office, we both acted as if we were still just good friends & never shared this secret session with others. Not once did I let anyone know, that only I was the lucky one who had seen Sreelatha's womanhood in all its glory. And even between ourselves, we never discussed this incident since that day.

Adieu!!



Thanks for Flying Türkiye Airways



The first, and so far only, time I've ever managed to score three way happened a couple months back when I was coming home from Germany. I'm not exactly what you would call inexperienced with the ladies. In fact, before I'd even gotten on the airplane that day, I was sitting at the airport bar and flirting with some of my fellow passengers. One of them in particular stood out, and I mean that quite literally.

She was a cute thing, with a sort of punk rock look going on. She had short, spiky hair dyed a bright shade of neon red, along with several piercings in her ears, nose, eyebrow and lip. A short sleeve leather halter top, plaid skirt and fishnets, complete with what looked to be black combat boots, completed her wardrobe. I could see a row of elaborate tattoos across her upper arm, and I couldn't help but wonder what else on this girl was tattooed and/or pierced. Naturally, I immediately gravitated towards her and struck up a conversation.

The girl was about as interesting as you might expect. She told me that her name was Maja, that she was only twenty years old, and that she was flying out to India, making a stopover at Istanbul. That meant she was on my flight! How fortuitous! As we sat together, I told her a little about myself as well. I was heading back to Turkey after working for a while in Germany.

"What line of work are you in," she asked.

"Music producer," I told her.

Maja seemed a little shocked by that.

"Really," she asked, sounding more than a little incredulous.

I reached into the pocket of my leather jacket and pulled out one of my business cards, handing it to the sexy punk rock woman sitting next to me.

"Yeah," I said, "I mostly work in the Turkish language community, both at home and over here in Germany."

It was true. There are a lot of us Turks living and working overseas in Germany, and some of my best talent has come from the Turkish community over there!

"We cover rap, metal, even some underground electronic type sounds."

"Cool," Maja said leaning over towards me, "Anyone I know of?"

"Probably not," I said.

I listed off some of the major finds that I'd managed to sign to my company's label... DJ Mehmet Pasha, die Jön Türkler, the Dead Atatürks, Turkey Dinner, and so forth. Maja just shook her head, so I decided to reach into my briefcase and give her one of my company's demo CDs. If nothing else, I could claim that it was a legitimate business advertisement!

When we finally were allowed to board the plane, I conveniently managed to find a seat next to the young punk rock princess. Yeah, I felt that there was some chemistry brewing between us, and I wanted to continue our conversation. Besides, it was going to be a good couple of hours before we even landed back in Istanbul, so I figured I had to do something useful with my time. Turns out I was right on the money on that one.

Maja and me continued to make conversation during the flight, even as the veritable army of air hostesses went back and forth through the aisles. Almost all of them had bleached their hair and dyed it some shade of auburn, red and even platinum blond, and they were all wearing matching bright red uniforms, to match my country's flag of course. I couldn't help but lick my lips a bit as one walked right past me, her shapely ass shaking back and forth as she handed out little bags of pistachios to the customers.

Eventually, when things had died down a little, I moved closer to Maja and we continued our conversation in private. I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"So," I had, "Have you ever wanted to join the mile high club?"

Maja giggled, and then she whispered to me.

"I already have," she said, "But I'd be up for it again if you're in the mood!"

Damn! This young woman was a real slut! I couldn't pass up that opportunity, so I followed her into the cramped water closet. It was amazing that two people could fit in there, even if she was somewhat petite to begin with. Maja took hold of her metal-studded belt and took it off, dropping her plaid skirt and torn fishnet pantyhose. She was wearing a lacey black thong underneath.

I leaned forward and brought my lips around hers, quickly slipping her out of her leather halter top as we made out. Maja was a skinny young woman, and she had small, perky boobs. Sure enough, the tattoos on her upper arm continued all the way to her chest, and along her back and ribs. She also had pierced nipples. As I felt up her firm young tits, I slipped out of my leather jacket and dropped my jeans.

My cock was already a little hard from the excitement, but Maja reached forward anyway and began to stroke it.

"Yeah baby," she said, "You like that?"

"Oh yeah," I told her as I kissed her skinny neck, "You make my dick hard! I'm going to fuck you with it! Fuck you good and hard!"

I ran my hands through her short, spiky hair. There wasn't really much of it to grab, but it seemed like a good erotic gesture all the same. Maja leaned back and wrapped her surprisingly strong legs around my midsection as I moved between her thighs. The young woman was already wet, so it was quite easy for me to penetrate into her cunt. Maja encouraged me, whispering hot suggestions about what she wanted me to do to her as I pumped in and out of the young woman's juicy pussy.

A couple minutes later, I shot a load of jizz deep into her waiting womb. I slowly let her catch her breath, and then pulled out of her. Knowing that we were a little pressed for time, we both cleaned up and started to get dressed. As soon as we were done, I opened the door and walked out...

Unfortunately, standing right in front of us was one of the air hostesses... but the weird part was that she had hiked up her little red miniskirt and had her hand over her thin panties.

"What the," was all I managed to get out.

"Oh," she said, quickly trying to cover herself, "I'm sorry... it's just..."

The woman turned to leave, but Maja put her arms around the woman and stopped her.

"It's okay," she said, "I think that this air hostess wants to join us!"

I was a little shocked by that. The platinum blond air hostess just blushed.

"Is that true," I asked.

"Yes," she said, "I came back here and I saw you two making sex! It was just sooo hot, the next thing I knew, I was beginning to pleasure myself and..."

"Well why don't you join us," Maja said.

At that point, I honestly don't know who was more surprised, the air hostess or myself. But I definitely had to give Maja credit. She was one kinky, and very persuasive, young thing.

Maja reached over and began to kiss the air hostess, hiking up the poor woman's skirt and feeling up her already moist pussy. The woman resisted a little a first, but soon began to accept Maja's ministrations. I saw her hand snake around back and lovingly grope Maja's firm young ass.

Not really sure of what to do myself, I simply went behind the air hostess and lifted up her miniskirt. She was taller and a little more curvaceous than Maja, and she had a really big ass. I smacked it a couple of times, causing her to meekly cry out in pleasure as she continued to make out with her punk rock lover.

I grabbed the air hostess's full, round butt cheeks and spread them, pointing the engorged tip of my cock against the entrance to her anus. Still lubricated from my previous fuck session with Maja back in the water closet, it slid right in without even a sign of protest or resistance from the woman. She simply continued to make out with Maja, greedily thrusting her hips as the younger woman stuck her fingers deep into her waiting cunt.

I pressed firmly down on her ass as I gained momentum, slowly building up a nice pace to thrust in and out of her ass. Since she was busy with the other woman, I decided I would grab hold of her platinum blond hair, roughly pulling on it while I violated her from behind. I couldn't really make out what she was trying to say, but after a couple more minutes I soon shot my white hot seed deep into her gaping bowels.

Spent, we collapsed into a pile on the floor. As we tried to catch our breath, I wrapped my arms around both of the sexy women who had treated me to my first threesome.

"No that's what I call customer service," I said, gently stroking the air hostess's platinum blond locks.



Thanks For The Bath Water



My fingers plucked the soft strings of my guitar as I sat in the stairwell of my tiny apartment. I though of the night's events fondly and how I might later regret my choice. The Low E-String buzzed and I immediately silenced the chord.

We'd talked a few times. She had dark brown hair and green eyes, a smile that could melt you from across the room like cheap birthday cake candles. Her body was that befitting a bronzed goddess. Her name was Angel.

We'd talked a few times, I said before. Light talk, full of innuendo and plays on words, a sort of cat and mouse game I played with dames to see how smart they really were, to see if they had a sense of humor. She had my full attention – a woman like that deserved nothing less.

She'd heard I was leaving town. It was a rushed job, middle of the night kind of thing for me. I wanted as far from this town and its pain and misery as I could get. And she wanted to meet the guy that made her smile and laugh, which had kept her on her toes. So we met for a drink. I was all hers till close, I'd said. And she was going to take advantage of every moment.

We sat at the bar, she sipping on something with bourbon in it and me sipping a sprite with lemon. I'd been off the sauce for a while. It just brought back painful memories and gave me nightmares. I didn't need or want that but was under the occasional impression it would help me not feel. Which sometimes was good, others, not so good.

And then she got to it. Her whole story of how she'd broken up with her boyfriend, he'd dumped her and left. She lived upstairs with friends, some who lived there, others left – kind of like a commune. She called it her "hotel."

We talked a few hours about her plans and her dreams and how she was hoping to make something better for herself. I sat and sipped my sprite while she opened up more about everything. I just sat there and listened to it all – not judging, not criticizing, but just taking it all in.

Before we knew it, the bartender made the last call. She warmed up her drink a bit and offered me something. I said I was fine and sipped the last of my watered down sprite.

It was time to go and we both found ourselves walking up the hill to my place. We sat on the steps and talked for a bit longer. She asked me if she could smoke a joint.

"Umm, no." I didn't explain why, but told her it wasn't a good idea in this neighborhood. So she asked about inside. I replied landlord didn't allow it. Neither did I for that matter. But I did invite her up.

We sat on the couch and talked a bit longer. She was a beautiful woman and I knew she was about to offer to show me just how much more beautiful she was.

But the topic strayed back to her roommates and how much she missed being able to take a decent bath. So I offered mine and even offered some bubble bath and she accepted on condition that I keep her company during her bathe.

I started her bath and mixed the vanilla bubble bath in with the warm water. I gave her the softest towel I could find and let the tube warm up. She had followed me inside and began to strip off what little clothes she had.

It had been several months since I had even seen a woman's back and she turned to face me in all of her splendid beauty. I could still see the pain in her eyes though and that was all it took.

She bit her lower lip, pouting as my hungry eyes glanced at the goddess standing before me. I took her by the hand and helped her to sit down in the tub.

I sat down next to the tub slightly behind, and out of her sight. And she began to talk again. I picked up my guitar and played for her. The lights were very low with only the occasional sound of the moving water and the quiet chirp of my fingers on steel strings as she continued to talk.

I played for her every song and yet no song, chords progressions and simple melody, pausing simply to answer her questions, she knew almost nothing about me, after all, she had done most of the talking.

At this point she was ready to get out. I gave her the softest towel I had. She said felt like she was drying off with a puppy. She stepped out of the tub with towel wrapped around her and I got up to take my guitar back to its resting place and give her some privacy.

She came out in just a t-shirt and sat down on the couch with me.

"You are the perfect gentleman," she said. "She must really be special."

"Yeah," I said, knowing exactly whom she was talking about. "She is."

"Then I should probably get home." She went back to the bathroom and got dressed.

"I'm not gonna let a lady walk home by herself," I said. "Not at 4 in the morning."

"It'll be ok," she said.

"It would be be my pleasure," I said.

We walked back across town, talking about all other things. Her past boyfriends,s, and all matters of trouble no lady should ever be forced to endure.

We got to her place and she gave me a kiss. "You sure you wouldn't like to come up."

"No, I've got to get home, I have work in the morning - in a few hours."

"Will you at least give me a kiss good night? I enjoyed myself, and you were the perfect gentleman."

"Of course. I would never turn down a Kiss from a beautiful woman."

She hugged me and I felt a single tear on her cheek followed by a short passionate kiss good night.

"Good night, Angel. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Good night, William. Thank you for the bath and for listening." I turned to walk away and she called after me, "maybe I'll see you again sometime."

"Yeah, maybe."

The walk home was quiet. I got back to the steps at 430 and headed straight up. I moved her towel onto the second rack and began cleaning up for bed. On the cabinet was a little post-it note that said, "thank you, I appreciated the bath. Love, Angel"

We'd just talked a few times before. Her brown hair flowing down her shoulder, the sparkle of green in her eyes, a smile that would melt a man from across the room, and a body a man thank his lucky stars for. She was every bit her namesake, every bit an Angel.



Thanks for the Dance



A work of fiction, dedicated to the girl who thanked me just for dancing with her. I doubt she knew what was on my mind. 

Nobody wanted to dance with her, but she hardly seemed to notice. She stood near the bar, nodding her head in time with the music, and smiling as she watched her friend dance. Her friend was a petite brunette with a tiger tattoo, and practically had to fight the guys off in order to stop for a drink or to exchange a few words with the girl I was watching. I usually go for petite brunettes myself, but something about the girl standing alone caught my eye. It wasn't her looks, though her face was pleasant, her skin was smooth, and her hairstyle suited her well. There's no denying she was a big girl, and that's probably why all the guys were staying away. But that smile was infectious. I walked over, pretended to notice her for the first time, and asked her to dance.

When she took my hand I realized for the first time how tall she was: as we started to dance my eyes were about level with her chin. This made it almost impossible not to gaze at her cleavage - the word "ample" comes to mind, but doesn't do it justice. A pair of soft, creamy white pillows seemed to invite me to lay my head down and rest a while. I looked up guiltily, away from the red lace fringe of her dress that beckoned like an unexplored horizon, found her eyes -clear green- and decided she hadn't noticed me staring. I gave her an encouraging smile, as she was clearly a beginner, led her through some easy dance steps, and watched as the smile returned to her face. A few minutes later she was swinging her hips as if she'd been born in the Caribbean, her lips were parted as her breathing increased, and she was still smiling. I smiled right back. I was making up my mind to really give her something to smile about.

This isn't a movie, and I don't have to stretch things out to any particular length, so I can skip the part about having a few drinks to get our courage up, or maybe I asked her for her number and called her later, or maybe she needed a ride home, or maybe there was some twist of fate where she had to leave suddenly but I managed to find her again weeks later. Let's just hit the fast-forward button. I was at the door of her apartment, having invited myself over on some flimsy excuse. She showed me in a little nervously. 

She was wearing that red dress, with the lace in the front, and a light jacket, unbuttoned. She took my coat and offered me a drink. I asked for water, and as she turned to the kitchen I watched her hips under the dress. She was a little wider than I'm used to, but her proportions weren't bad at all. Her manners were nervous and a little shy, but her walk was strong, almost athletic. I wondered what her legs would look like. I caught myself thinking these things and realized I was still unsure I wanted to go through with this. But as she handed me a glass of water she smiled, and my infatuation with her caught me again. Green eyes, soft lips, great chest, and standing there waiting for me to make a move... logic, emotion, and libido finally joined forces. I stepped toward to accept the water, and took an extra step forward to lean in for our first kiss.

I had to stand on tiptoe, so the kiss was tentative at first - just softly brushing lips. Then I moved my free hand (the one that wasn't holding the water) to her shoulder, so I was able to keep my balance and move in close enough to part my lips a little, drawing her lower lip in for a teasing nibble and then tracing the inside of her lip with my tongue. She moaned with desire at that, and suddenly her arms were wrapped around me and her tongue was filling my mouth. I managed somehow to put the water down and practically climbed onto her, one hand holding her head steady as our tongues fiercely exchanged places, the other hand repaying her bear hug by grabbing wildly at her ass. I'd never felt such an enormous chest pressed against me, or so much flesh on a girl's rear, but I wasn't thinking about that. All I knew was that I was driving this girl wild, and it was a huge turn-on. My skin felt electric, and I swear when I touched the bare skin on her chest I felt a spark. I wanted all our clothes off, and quickly.

My left hand kept grabbing at her ass, and bunching her dress up at the same time until I could slip my hand underneath the fabric. Every time I grabbed a handful of flesh she moaned more loudly and attacked my mouth more vigorously. My right hand was carressing her chest now, teasing along the edge of the fabric and also rubbing her nipples through the dress. Her bear hug had now become more of an exploration of my back and shoulders, but she was still holding me close, nearly lifting me off the ground. It was almost scary how little physical control I had, but I wasn't about to complain: she was the horniest girl I'd met in months. I was grinding my now-rigid cock against her, and she was grinding right back. We would have been quite a sight, leaning against the refigerator with her dress now hitched up to her waist, me shirtless (she must have lifted it off, it happened so fast I don't recall), dry-humping like a couple of teenagers. Maybe not your typical couple, since I'm an average-to-skinny guy and she was taller than me and, well, not skinny. But I wish I had a video of that encounter in the kitchen: I would challenge anybody to watch it and not get turned on. Hands were going everywhere, neither of us could catch our breath, and our crescendo of moans could have sold as a porno with a blank screen.

Her dress came off as we moved to the bedroom. My pants wound up on the floor by her bed, and my underwear followed. Now as we knelt on the bed facing each other I was stark naked, my cock pointing urgently toward this girl - whose name I didn't know - who was now wearing only a black bra and panties. She grinned naughtily, took my cock in her hand, and bent down to kiss it. After our feverish dry-humping, her moist lips felt like heaven. I closed my eyes.

Her warm mouth swallowed my cock, and I saw stars. I must have collapsed on the bed, because I remember grabbing handfuls of blankets and shaking my head back and forth. I usually don't find blowjobs nearly as stimulating as actual coitus, but this girl had a gift. My cock felt harder and harder, warmer and warmer, like it was ready to burst. I couldn't catch my breath. 

For a second the sensations stopped, and I took a deep breath. Then I opened my eyes just in time to see this girl lowering her pussy onto my cock. She was so wet it took only an instant, and she started bouncing on me so hard I thought she'd break my pelvis. I reached up to grab her by the shoulders and hung on for dear life while she clawed at my back and screamed with lust. I was coming before I knew it - I didn't even have a chance to warn her - spurting deep inside her with her enormous breasts crushed against my chest. She didn't slow down at all; I'm not certain she even noticed. Amazingly, my dick was still rock hard as I continued to receive the fucking of a lifetime. With plenty of extra lubrication, she was now taking even longer, harder strokes. I leaned back a little to enjoy the ride, and watched her face as she bit her lip, opened her mouth to pant, rolled her eyes, or grimaced in concentration. Her hair was damp with sweat and her skin was flushed and steaming - I was witnessing total sexual abandon.

This sight renewed my lust and I began rocking my hips to match her thrusts. She responded vocally. In fact, her exact words were "fuck me fuck me fuck me." So I did: I rolled her over and climbed on top, pulled her knees up, and drove my cock into her like I was drilling for gold. She writhed and arched her back, and the more wildly she thrashed the more frantically I pounded into her. Finally, just as I was struggling to prevent myself from coming for the second time, she gave a scream that would have woken the pharaohs, and collapsed in total exhaustion. I relaxed and made one last thrust, collapsing on top of her as my sperm gushed out and filled her.

After a minute or two we revived enough to exchange shit-eating grins and a long kiss. "I could get used to that," she said. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

That was our first time. It wasn't until later that I discovered her kinky side. 



Thanks for the Memories



I just got back from Chicago and I couldn't wait to write this story. Since it is based on a recent true experience I have modified the names of the characters. Although this is not written as a sequel it is based somewhat on a prior experience that I described in my story titled An Affair to Remember. It is not necessary to read that story before this one however you may chose to read it and learn more about the prior affair with my secretary that is referenced in this story.

*

2005 was my first year of retirement and I was truly enjoying all of the free time for golf, skiing, SCUBA and travel along with many cultural events. I just turned 64 this past summer and I had been successful enough in business to retire early. I work out all the time and I have returned to martial arts keeping myself very fit.

My best friend Carl invited me to a party at his house in Chicago the weekend after Thanksgiving. He and Lynn have a beautiful spacious home in the western suburbs of Chicago. The party would be kind of a reunion since a number people that worked for me including Carl and Lynn, back in the mid-80's would be there. The party was Saturday night but Carl told me to come down on Friday and hang out with him and Lynn.

I arrived about lunch time Friday and the three of us hung out at the house watching football and catching up on news. That evening we went out to dinner at a very quaint Italian restaurant. After dinner we all retired for the evening. The next morning we went for a walk in the forest preserve with their two labs and then had breakfast. I helped Carl and Lynn prepare for the party by running some errands and setting up. They had a catering service prepare and deliver the food later that evening.

About 6:00PM people started to arrive and by 7:00PM there were at least 50 people there. People were spread throughout the house on the first level and basement. People formed in little groups and visited with each other for awhile and then moved on to another group. Others were shooting pool or watching the Notre Dame game in the basement. One couple, Tommy and Nancy chatted with me for awhile before Tommy took off to play pool. They were two of the people that had worked for me at one time. In fact Nancy was one of my secretary's best friends.

Back in the mid-80's Nancy was a little over weight and sort of dumpy. She dressed a little slutty back then and she had very long blonde hair. That was 16-20 years ago and tonight she looked terrific. She had lost weight in spite of having two children, her hair was cut short and stylish, and she was tastefully dressed in a short skirt and sweater.

I told her she looked great and she returned the compliment telling me that I had kept myself in excellent shape. That was not the case for her husband Tommy who had gotten out of shape. We talked for quite awhile until I excused my self to use the bathroom. The bath on the first floor was taken so I went up to the bathroom in the room where I was staying. After relieving myself I came out of the bathroom and found Nancy in my room sitting on the bed. She had closed and locked the bedroom door. "Are you okay? Do you need to use this bathroom?" I asked her.

"No I'm fine, I just wanted to be with you alone for a few minutes," she replied.

Nancy then said, "You know Cathleen and I were very good friends back when we all worked together. But what you probably don't know is that she told me about your affair back then."

I was stunned I had thought they we were so discreet that no one had known about Cathleen and me. I wondered who else may have known.

"Who else did she tell?" I asked her.

"No one that I know of and I haven't told anyone, not even my husband Tommy," she replied.

"So why bring this up now," I asked somewhat confused.

"Because I want to see your cock and I want to suck your cock. I had heard about your cock all the time. Cathleen bragged about it to me telling me how you filled her pussy, her mouth and her ass with your big dick. She would tell me stories that had my pussy dripping and poor Tommy didn't know what hit him when we got home. There were times that I had to get myself off at work I was so turned on. I had all I could do not to come on to you back then," Nancy confessed.

"Nancy that was 16 to 20 years ago, I am not the same person today. Hell I am 64 years old now," I blurted.

"I don't care I never thought I would see you again and now I have tonight. I am not going to let you get away this time and besides I am not 23 anymore either," she said.

Nancy took my hand and pulled me toward her on the bed. She reached for my belt and unbuckled it. Then she unzipped my fly and unbuttoned my trousers. I grabbed her hands momentarily.

"Nancy, please! What about Tommy?" I asked firmly.

"Tommy hasn't touched me in over a year and right now he is busy playing pool and watching football. Let me have my moment, please!" she begged. 

Nancy tugged my trousers down to my knees and then reached for the waistband of my knit boxers. All this talk and her actions had given me an erection and when she lowered my boxer shorts the waistband caught the head of my cock and it sprung up in her face.

"Oh my, it is big just as Cathleen said it was. She told me how she loved it when it got caught in your shorts and danced in her face," Nancy commented.

As Nancy handled my cock I knew that I should have felt guilty. I was in an extremely compromising position with Tommy's wife and I know I should have stopped. I thought of Tommy for a moment but the truth was I didn't care. I wanted this woman to suck my cock more than anything else right then.

Any nagging doubts that I had previously had were now pushed right to the furthest recesses of my mind. My eyes closed as Nancy stroked my hot tool and guided it towards her willing and open mouth. Nancy licked her lips in anticipation and slowly opened her mouth to engulf my rapidly hardening shaft. She licked delicately at the slit opening of my cock head and then ran her tongue around the crown, nibbling lightly, kissing her way down the shaft until her nose touched my pubic hair. I could feel her breath on my skin as she kissed the head and sighed deeply as she allowed the mushroom head to slide over her tongue and into her warm, wet mouth. Her hands gripped my buttocks and pulled me towards her swallowing my dick and humming deep in her throat. It had so long since I'd been treated to a good blow-job and I wanted it to last as long as possible.

She then kissed my balls as she carefully held them in one small hand and caressed them with her finger tips. She licked lightly and then sucked each one very gently into her mouth. She delved deeper holding my scrotum up slightly and licked the under surface of my cock. I spread my thighs slightly and she probed and her tongue reached my perineum causing my spine to tingle. Nancy then returned to my cock, kissing and mouthing her way up my sturdy shaft. 

Nancy was a very proficient cock-sucker as she used her long fingernails to tickle and stroke the sensitive skin under my balls as she deep-throated my dick. My own fingers tangled in her blond hair as I pulled her head hard onto my weapon. I moved my hips to fuck her face as she fellated me. Nancy's reaction was a deep moan in the back of her throat as her mouth contracted around my tool. 

I saw stars and felt my head swim as I came quicker then I expected or wanted. The rush of semen took me as much by surprise as it did her and I pumped my cock in and out of her mouth as she gulped and swallowed my cum enthusiastically. Although there wasn't a large amount of cum it was more than I had produced in quite some time. Nancy continued to suck me until I went soft in her mouth and then she let my cock slip from her mouth. She held onto it with one of her tiny hands and ran her tongue around the head and tickled my pee hole. My legs were shaking when I had to finally push her away.

"That was fantastic!" I exclaimed.

I felt as if I should do something for her so I tried to eat her pussy. As I tried to position her so that I could remove her panties Nancy stopped me.

"Not tonight, we have been gone from the party long enough," she said, and then, "When are you leaving?" she asked.

"I am heading back tomorrow after the Bears game but I could stay longer if you like," I offered feeling somewhat obligated.

"Are you going to stay here or can you go to a hotel?" she inquired.

"I could probably stay here until Monday and then go check-in somewhere. There are plenty of hotels around and Monday should be a slow day," I answered.

Nancy smiled a very sultry smile and said, "How about the Chateau?"

"Is that place still around?" I said laughingly.

"Yes it is and I had so many stories from Cathleen about what you two did there together. I just have to go there with you. I will meet you there on Monday, say about 10:00AM," Nancy requested.

"Okay the Chateau it is," I agreed.

I gave Nancy my cell phone number just in case there was a change in plans. She left the bedroom before me and rejoined the party. I tidied myself up and then I rejoined the group as well. There were so many people that we were never missed as everyone just circulated around.

Later after everyone had left I helped Carl and Lynn clean up and then we all went to bed about 2:00AM. I slept like a log but I kept thinking about meeting Nancy on Monday at the Chateau. Then I thought about the Chateau and all the times I had been there with Cathleen and about all of the sexual acts that we had performed there. I dozed off and dreamt about my days with Cathleen. The dreams were definitely hot as I awoke Sunday morning with a hard-on.

Carl, Lynn and I slept in to about 10:30AM. The three of us went out to breakfast and then returned to house where we spent the afternoon watching the Bears beat the Bucs and reading the Sunday Tribune. Carl and Lynn were fine with me staying Sunday night and they told me how to lock up in the morning after they went to work.

MONDAY AT THE CHATEAU

The Chateau was a short drive from Carl's house and as soon as Carl and Linda left for work I called to reserve a room. They assured me that a room with a Jacuzzi bath would be available for me at 9:00 AM. I drove over to the Chateau and checked in and then I called Nancy to let her know which room I was in. The Chateau had private car ports so that Nancy could park her car discretely next to our room. I took my EDS pill and awaited Nancy's arrival.

Nancy arrived shortly after 10:00 AM wearing a very short skirt and sweater. I was already down to my underwear when I let her in the room. She came in and hung up her coat revealing her short skirt putting her shapely legs on display.

"Walt, I want you to play with me a little bit first just like you used to with Cathleen. She told me how she used to walk into your office and make believe that she was looking at something on your desk. She told me how you ran your hands up her legs and touched the bare skin above her stockings. She told me how you lowered her panties and then played with her ass and fingered her pussy. I want you to make believe that we are in your office," Nancy recounted her desires.

She had me sit on the bed and then she approached me. Nancy stood by the bed and then leaned over as if she was looking at something on the bed. Her skirt was so short that it rose above her thigh high stockings as she bent over. I ran my hands up her shapely legs and took my time stroking her calves and thighs. Nancy was groaning and moaning as I stroked her legs and then emitted an audible gasp when my hand touched her panty covered pussy.

Nancy was shaking and trembling as I played with her lower body. I eased her panties down and off her legs as she placed her hands on my shoulders to maintain her balance. I stroked her buttocks and fingered her pussy. Nancy's pussy was dripping wet and I soon had three fingers sliding easily in and out of her pussy. I tickled her nether hole but Nancy let me know that she did not want anything in her ass.

"I know you used to fuck Cathleen in the ass and she loved but I don't want anything in my ass. I hope you are okay with that," she explained herself.

"No problem Nancy, I am here for you," I reassured her.

I continued to finger her pussy and massage her buttocks until Nancy had a mild orgasm. She gripped my shoulders and gasped aloud as the first orgasm rocked her. She then sat down on the bed next to me and I laid her down on her back. I slipped Nancy's skirt off and then I removed her sweater. She had elected to wear a bra so I removed that next. Now I had her totally naked before me. I slipped off my t-shirt and shorts and then I leaned over and kissed her deeply. Nancy almost swallowed my tongue when it entered her mouth. We kissed and I caressed her body gradually working my way down over her breasts and abs eventually arriving at her pussy.

Nancy's body leaped when my tongue found her clit. I licked her clit and fingered her pussy as Nancy humped my mouth and she cried out in ecstasy. I placed her legs on my shoulders and sucked on her pussy as I reached up with both hands and played with her titties. Nancy was out of her mind as I worked her body over.

"Please, I'm ready, please fuck me. Give me your cock. Fuck me with your big cock," she pleaded.

I moved between her legs and slid my very hard erect cock into her hot dripping pussy. It slid in easily but it still took her breath away. I fucked her slowly and steadily as I felt her juices coat my member.

"Oh, I feel so full. It feels so good. I know just what Cathleen felt when you fucked her," Nancy blurted out.

It always took me a long time to cum these days and I knew with the EDS drug it would take longer. The benefit to Nancy was that I would remain hard for at least an hour and maybe longer before I came. I picked up the pace and I was soon pounding her cunt keeping my cock in constant contact with her clit.

Nancy's body rocked with multiple orgasms and she humped up at me like a machine. She groaned and moaned and shot her juice all over my cock. I kept pounding her pussy throughout her orgasm until she pleaded with me to stop.

"Oh stop, please stop. I can't cum anymore, Please stop fucking me," she begged.

I slowed down and then stopped leaving my still hard cock in her sopping wet pussy. I rolled us to our side and then to my back with Nancy on top. My cock remained in her cunt as she collapsed on top of my body. I felt all of Nancy's weight on me as she lay still with my cock still in her and her breasts pressed into my chest.

"Would you like to hit the Jacuzzi?" I asked her.

Nancy simply nodded her agreement. I rolled her to the side and allowed my still erect cock to withdraw from the warm confines of her pussy. She flopped over on her stomach as I got up to run the Jacuzzi bath. I put an ample amount of bath oil in the Jacuzzi and allowed it to fill up. I was still sporting an erection and I thought to myself that these EDS drugs do work.

Once the tub was filled Nancy and I entered the Jacuzzi. She lay back against me and my hands immediately went to her breasts. I massaged her tits and tweaked her nipples as Nancy relaxed against my body. I thought back to the times when I was I the Jacuzzi with Cathleen. 

Cathleen would always shower before we had sex or entered the Jacuzzi. She would also douche both her pussy and her ass in anticipation of me tonguing her holes. She loved to lean over the edge of the Jacuzzi and push her butt into the air as I played with both her pussy and her bunghole. When she leaned over the tub I looked at her shapely ass glistening with the oily water and I could not resist rimming her pink nether hole. Cathleen loved it when I rimmed her ass as she anticipated what was to come, a good ass fucking.

Just thinking about the days with Cathleen had me even more charged then I would have been with Nancy. I lifted Nancy up and slipped my cock into her from behind. Nancy sat on my cock allowing it to fill up her pussy hole. Then she leaned forward grabbing the sides of the Jacuzzi tub so that I could fuck her doggy style. As I fucked her pussy Nancy reached between our legs and found my balls. She gently massaged my balls as I fucked her from behind. I reached around her body and located her tits and hard little nubs. I twirled her nipples in my fingers as she fondled my balls and I fucked her from behind.

"Can we go back to the bed?" Nancy asked in a strained tone.

We got out of the tub and she flopped on the bed opening her legs so that I could climb between them. Neither of us had bothered to dry our bodies as Nancy was in an obvious state of desire. I knelt between her legs and slipped my oily wet cock into her equally oily wet pussy. Nancy wrapped her legs around my body and humped me as if it were her last fuck. I matched her stroke for stroke and we were both panting and writhing on the bed.

"Oh this is going to be a big one!" exclaimed Nancy.

Nancy humped, twisted and gyrated her body as a wave of orgasms hit her. She screamed out as she came and came.

"Oh Walt, hold me. Hold me tight. I'm cummmming! She cried out.

I felt her female juices flood her cunt and soak my cock. I felt my own orgasm approach finally and when I let loose it was as if a stopper were pulled out to relieve the pressure. It felt like I shot a large wad but I knew in reality that I didn't cum in the same volume or with the same velocity as years gone by. None the less my orgasm was intense and I was truly satisfied with the pleasure that Nancy brought me and that I brought to her.

I rolled off of her and lay on the bed next to her. Both our bodies were hot and sweaty. Nancy rolled over to me, kissed me and thanked me over and over for making love to her. We both showered dressed and said our goodbyes. There was really nothing else to say as we departed. 

As I drove home I not only thought of the memorable encounters with Nancy but the memories she brought back of Cathleen and me.



Thanks for the Memories







Thanks for the Memories



"I need to come. They haven't made come yet. I can feel spunk dripping down from my pussy."

"Go on," he said.

"I'm sucking him. I'm getting him in really deep. He keeps holding my head. I am using one hand to stop it from going too far and making me gag. I'm playing with myself, trying to get there."

Julia's left hand had involuntarily moved down between her legs and John could see that she was concentrating her rubbing on one tiny area.

"His friend has said something to him. He wants me to stand up and suck him. Oh! The other one is trying to fuck me at the same time. They're really pleased with themselves. They're calling it a spit-roast. It's… it's happening at last! I'm coming!"

So was John Reynolds. He had never, ever ejaculated into his underwear like this before.

"Oh my… there's come everywhere. So much, it's coming out of my mouth, out of my pussy. Ohhhh!" Julia ceased rubbing herself and her limbs fell back into place, her arms by her sides, her legs straight.

"What's happening now, Julia?" he asked.

"I'm going home. I'm through the front door. I've hung my raincoat up. Now I'm taking my make-up off. I'm showering. I'm climbing into bed."

"How do you feel, Julia?"

"Fucking marvellous!"

"Thank you Julia. Just wait there a moment would you." He paused for breath and to consider his next actions. It was very important to get this right, for the sake of his client. He stood up, aware of the wetness in his crotch and straightened Julia's dress.

He decided that Julia needed to know what had happened on that night, but to save his own embarrassment, not what had happened this evening.

"Julia, I'm going to count backwards from ten. When I reach one, you will awake fully. You will remember everything that you have related to me tonight, but you will not remember precisely how you told me. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Ten, nine, eight. You're starting to come out of your sleep now. Seven, six, five, four. Your body is waking up. Three, two, one. Wake up."

Julia's eyes opened, they then opened wider as the memory returned. Her face turned a delicate shade of beetroot. She was speechless.

"You need to go home now and rest. If you need anything, anything at all, at any time, then call this number." He handed her a card. "I suggest that you come back next Monday evening and we can discuss where you go from here."





Thanks for the Memories



"Yes," Julia replied and left.

As soon as the door closed, John pulled his cock out and masturbated again. He imagined what it would be like to fuck Julia, what it would belike to have her suck his prick. He wondered what her pussy would taste like.





Thanks for the Memories



John smiled as Julia rushed back inside to get her things. He didn't know where their journey would take them, but he was sure that he could help her overcome her problems. Together they would tackle the future – and probably have a lot of fun in the bedroom (and elsewhere) in the meantime.





Thanks for the Memories



I picked up the phone on the third ring, no idea who waited on the other end. I lifted the receiver to my ear and answered,

"Hello?"

"Hello, can I speak to Mr. Henderson please?" The man had a practised, sing-song quality to their Manchester accent. Great, another cold caller, trying to convince me that my windows needed replaced, or that they could save me money on my home insurance. I have a big problem with cold callers, and that is that I can't hang up on them. But I do get some pleasure out of stringing them along until they think they've got a sale, and then suddenly changing my mind. Anyway, back to the phone call.

"Speaking."

"Hi, Mr. Henderson, my name is James Lowe, and I work for the Irish Independent," I perked up a bit, not a cold caller after all, "this is a call regarding the competition you entered in February. Just to let you know you won the competition, and your tickets are making their way over to you now. Congratulations." There was a click, and then the line went dead as the man at the other end of the phone hung up abruptly.

Ok, let me back up a bit. My name is Peter Henderson, but you can call me Pete. I am a 23 year old multimedia graduate from Dublin University. I was born and raised in Dublin, grew up with my parents and 2 younger brothers. I moved out when I went to uni, and never moved back. Now I live in a very studenty flat, and don't really have a job. I have messy light brown hair, dark blue eyes (and I wear glasses), I'm about 5'11 and, while I wouldn't say I was good looking, I'm not too bad on the eyes, or so I've been told. I think I have the scruffy, cute look.

In February I saw a competition in the Independent to win tickets to a book reading with Cecilia Ahern, the 26 year old author of P.S. I Love You. She was doing a reading from her newest book, Thanks for the Memories, which was due for release on April Fools Day. The event also included a book signing for her fans and, for the winner of the Independent's competition, a dinner with the author herself. Now I had won, and I was really excited. I had been a huge fan of Cecilia's since her first book, and I've read all of them, numerous times.

I got the phone call on a rainy Monday at the tail end of March. Every day since I checked the mail for the tickets to the book signing, and, finally they arrived on the following Friday, in time for the event 2 weeks later in the first weeks of April.

Eventually the day of the book singing arrived. I was nervous; I couldn't believe I was going to get to meet Cecilia Ahern. It still blew me away that someone at only the age of 26 had done so much. I chose a loose fitted pair of jeans and a casual shirt to wear, picked up my tickets, slipped it into the inside pocket of my leather jacket and left my flat, jacket over one shoulder in the cool early evening breeze. It was a nice evening, the sun still glimmering low in the sky, turning the horizon hues of orange and red. I got to my car when my mobile started ringing. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and answered,

"Hello?"

"Peter Henderson?"

"Yes."

"Hi, this is your driver. I couldn't get you on the land-line, so I called your mobile. Just to let you know I'll be at your house in 10 minutes, ok?"

"Wait, did you say driver?"

"Yes, sir, from the Irish Independent, to take you to Ms. Ahern's book signing."

"Oh right, I wasn't aware I was getting a driver, but ok, thanks, see you soon." I hung up, a bit bemused and went back into my flat.

Ten minutes later, a horn sounded outside. I glanced out the nearest window to see a sleek silver Jag waiting at the side of the road below. I locked my flat and left, climbing into the back seat of the car, sinking into the cream leather of the seats. I greeted my driver, who introduced himself as Dave.

"Next stop, the Abbey Theatre." Dave said, and eased the car back onto the road.

The car was delightful. It didn't feel like it was even touching the road, it was like we were gliding over it. Throughout the journey, I made small talk with Dave, who told me he was on call all night so I was just to let him know when I needed a lift home, he gave me his pager number for that. He dropped me off at the theatre 45 minutes before Cecilia was due to start reading. As I stepped out the Jag, I was greeted by a member of Cecilia's press team, Kate, a grey haired vulture of a lady. She told me that I would be sitting in the front row of the theatre, then, during the book signing, I would be taken back stage, where I would wait for Cecilia, who would sign my book, and then we would go for dinner.

"Ms. Ahern asked to meet you before the reading, which is why your here early. Come with me."

Trying to act calm I followed Kate through the actors' entrance. She led me along the dull grey corridors to the dressing rooms.

"This is Cecilia's dressing room, please wait here and I'll see if she's ready for you." She hadn't smiled at all, her bird-like features remaining stoic throughout.

A minute later and she was back, ushering me into the room. The cosy little dressing room was brightly lit, with a large mirror taking up most of the far away wall. I couldn't see Cecilia, and I assumed she was in the room off to the side, which I figured was the toilet. This was confirmed a few seconds later when a sweet voice called out,

"I'll be out in just a minute. Thanks Kate, is there anything else?"

"No, Ms. Ahern, that's all."

"How many times Kate? It's Cecilia." Kate left the room, gently closing the door behind her. I stood in the room, unsure what to do with myself, so I spoke in the general direction of the bathroom,

"Does Kate ever smile?" My question brought a laugh from the bathroom,

"You know I don't think she knows how." Was the response. Cecilia came out of the bathroom and my mouth almost hit the floor. She looked amazing. Her bright blonde hair flowed in gentle curls down the side of her face. Her dazzling blue eyes shone from their sockets, her light covering of make-up bringing out their colour. Her cheeks were rosy, the smile on her soft pink lips warm and welcoming. She wore a mid-thigh length denim skirt and a pink top with sparkling sequins. As she walked into the room she had an air of confidence and friendliness. She was fixing one of her earrings into her left ear as she walked over to me. She smiled kindly at me, standing a bit smaller than me.

"Hi, I'm Cecilia, and none of this Ms. Ahern crap, Cecilia is fine." Her smile broadened and I introduced myself. She pulled me into a welcoming hug and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and I could smell coconuts from her hair as she did.

"You look amazing Cecilia."

"Thank you Pete." She said with a small laugh.

We made small talk for a while as she bustled about the room, making last minute adjustments to her appearance. I found out a bit about her. Her brother was in Westlife, her dad was a politician and her boyfriend, David Keoghan, was an Olympic hopeful. I told her a bit about myself, no, I didn't really have a proper job at the moment, yes, I was born and raised in Dublin, no, I don't have any special girl in my life. We got on well and I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. She was funny, intelligent, and damn pretty. I found it really difficult to take my eyes off her figure as she busied about.

Ten minutes before the start of the reading I said goodbye to Cecilia (I got another kiss on the cheek from her) and was shown out of the dressing room by Kate. As I sat in the front row of the theatre, I looked up at the stage and the lonely desk sitting there with the lonely book on top. The PA system crackled, and a voice filled the theatre,

"Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, good evening and welcome to the Abbey Theatre. Please can you turn off all mobile phones and we would like to remind all patrons that the use of any kind of camera is forbidden. We hope you al enjoy the show tonight, now without further ado, please welcome onto the stage, Miss Cecilia Ahern!" The audience clapped their approval and Cecilia walked out onto the stage. She waved back at the audience, caught my eye and gave me a cheeky wink.

"Hey everyone, glad you could all make it. Well here it is, my new book," she held up the book from the table, "Thanks for the Memories. What I'm going to do is read you a chapter from the middle of the book and then I'll take some questions and you're all more than welcome to come down and get your books signed at the end. Ok, let's get going."

She sat down on the wicker arm chair behind the desk, crossed her slender legs over, opened the book, flicked to the right page and began to read.

As she read I stared at her, looking into her eyes as she surveyed the audience, occasionally catching my eye. I let my eyes roam over her body, from her smooth legs and feet, encased in silver heeled shoes, to her curved torso, accented by the tight top she was wearing, to her pretty face, animated and alive as she read the book to us. She was a good reader, inventing different voices for the characters, really making the book jump off the pages, almost as if we were watching a stage production rather than a book-read.

When she had finished reading, she was given a loud round of applause and she smiled happily. She then opened the floor to the audience to ask her any questions. I noticed about 12 people with microphones strategically placed throughout the crowd. Hands shot up in the air, desperate to speak. She pointed to someone a few rows behind me who asked the most obvious and boring question,

"Where do you get all your ideas from?" I groaned inwardly and listened to the answer.

20 questions later and she put a stop to it. She thanked everyone for coming and said that the book signing would take place in row order. Ushers began to appear next to the rows and I noticed Kate beckoning me from the door to my left. I stood up with the rest of the front row and, instead of following them onto the stage, slipped through the door to join Kate. She took me back to the dressing room, as dour as ever, and asked me to wait until Cecilia was finished. She left me alone in the dressing room.

I wandered around the room, looking at the pictures on the wall of various acts from the past 20 years who had played the theatre. I made a quick pit-stop in the bathroom to freshen up, and when I went back out, the door was being opened, and Cecilia walked in, shaking her hand as if to dispel some water from it.

"Ouch, my hands is throbbing, I think I just signed my name over 200 times." She grinned at me. I grinned back,

"Aaww, want me to rub it better?" I asked, just for a laugh.

"Would you? Thanks, that would be great." Ok, not quite the answer I had expected, but nonetheless I took her soft hand in mine and began to rub her palm with my fingers,

"Hmmm, I see great things in your future." She fell into a fit of giggles as I pretended to read her palm. The laughing was infectious and I started too. Once we'd calmed down, she went to freshen up, and then we were ready for dinner. I opened the door for her, offered her my arm to which she said,

"Oh. Such a gentleman, thank you." We walked back through the corridors and out to a waiting limo. She told me that we would be going to Il Primo, an Italian restaurant in the centre of Dublin. In the limo, we sat and she offered me a glass of champagne, which I eagerly accepted. She asked what I thought of her reading and I told her that she was excellent, really enthusiastic and energetic.

"Yea, I really enjoy reading my books to people, glad to see that it shows."

We arrived at the Il Primo, and were shown to a table over by a window, quite secluded from the rest of the restaurant. The waiter pulled out her seat for her and took our jackets. I sat opposite her, looking at her over a small, lit candle. We ordered a half bottle of wine to the table and picked up our menus, talking all the while.

Two courses later and I was very full, wondering whether to risk dessert or not. The bottle of wine was half full and I was pouring us another glass. Cecilia was delightful. She was a very bubbly person, smiling, laughing, and even flirting a bit with me, though I knew it was just innocent. A couple of times I even thought she rubbed her foot up my leg, though I figured that was just my imagination, or accidental. When she laughed, it was intoxicating, such a lively, energetic giggle. She was full of life and was more than happy to talk to me about everything.

We finished the meal and got ready to leave, the bill having been pre-paid by Cecilia's team. We walked to the exit of the restaurant and I thanked her for a great evening,

"It's not everyday I get to eat a romantic dinner with a celebrity." She laughed and playfully punched my shoulder.

"Don't be daft, come with me, we'll give you a lift home." Not one to argue, I followed her and got into the limo again. This time she sat right next to me,

"Can I ask you a question Pete?" She suddenly looked like a shy little girl.

"Sure"

"Do you like me? I mean, do you think I'm attractive?"

"Huh?" I was caught off guard with the question, "Yes, your gorgeous, your sexy, funny, and I've had an amazing time tonight, why?"

"It's just...well, with David being away a lot and never being home, I wonder whether he's not attracted to me anymore. I know he's slept with at least one other woman when he's been away training, and I just don't know what I'm doing anymore." Taken aback, I stammered for the right words.

"Hey, hey, hey, none of that. Why do you think he's been cheating on you?"

"Well, he's always talking about this girl, Gillian, who he's friends with at the training. He never shuts up about her."

"Maybe their just good friends? And I'm sure he's attracted to you, I mean, your gorgeous, he'd have to be some sort of idiot to throw you away." She smiled at me again, eyes still looking a bit downcast.

"Come on," I said, "let me see that sexy smile of yours." She grinned wider and gave me a hug, closer and more intimate than before. I patted her head sympathetically, and broke the hug, only to have her throw herself at me, planting her pink lips on mine, pressing them together. Shocked, I broke the kiss, and she gave me a smouldering look.

"Cecilia, what..."

"Kiss me Pete, I want you. You can't say you don't want me; we've been flirting all night. If David can do it, so can I. Kiss me Pete." Her eyes had changed, they were no longer bubbly or shy, they were smouldering, lust-filled. I couldn't let this opportunity pass; I'd never forgive myself, even if it did feel like she was sleeping with me to get back at David. 

Putting my conscience aside, I pulled her to me and kissed her back. Opening her mouth and slipping my tongue inside to dance with hers. My hands roamed across her back, over her perfect ass, squeezing the cheeks between my palms. Her hands were in my hair, gripping my curls as she kissed. I could feel her pert breasts pressed into my chest, and she moved to straddle me in the back seat of the limo. Our breathing was getting faster and shallower, our tongues exploring each others mouths. Breaking the kiss, I asked about the limo driver,

"Don't worry about him, I've got him well trained, just enjoy yourself." She smiled cheekily at me and kissed me again, fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. I slipped my hands up under her top, running my hands up the smooth skin of her back, lifting the material as I went. My shirt unbuttoned, Cecilia began to kiss down my neck, onto my collarbone, nibbling gently as she went. She paused briefly to allow me to pull her top over her head, revealing her pink lacy bra, which plunged down her cleavage, accenting the gorgeous curve of her breasts. Reaching behind her, I grope at the bra strap, releasing her breasts from their lace prison.

Her breasts were gorgeous, the flesh soft and supple, the curves standing proud on her chest. Her areolas were a light pink colour around her hardened nipples, just inviting to be touched and fondled. I pulled her back up from my chest and brought my head down to her tits, nibbling the flesh around the nipple of one, while roughly squeezing the other. She gasped as I did this, not hiding her pleasure.

Pulling away from me, she knelt on the floor of the limo, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and, grabbing the waistband, yanked them to the floor, taking my boxer shorts with them, leaving me naked. She whistled her approval and I laughed. She stood up as much as she could in the tight space of the car and turned around, moving her hips in seductive circles, her ass inches away from my hard member.

As she danced, she ran her hands over her breasts, pinching her own nipples and moaning. I sat there, transfixed as the gorgeous 26 year old author transformed from a pretty, friendly young woman, into a wild child, practically giving me a lap dance and squeezing her own tits. Her index fingers worked their way inside the waist band of her denim skirt and slowly slipped it down over her tight rear, inch by inch revealing panties that matched the pink lace bra on the floor of the limo. The knickers had an almost transparent quality that showed her perfect ass off and, when she turned around to face me, the thin V of brown hair that pointed to her pussy, and the moist patch which showed her excitement.

Moving towards me again, she straddled me and began to gyrate her hips, grinding her pelvis into my crotch, exciting me. Only now did I realise that I was being given a lap dance by Cecilia Ahern, and I was naked, she was wearing nothing but a thin pear of panties. I grabbed her ass and groped the cheeks, pushing her into my rigid cock as she danced on me. Leaning down, she kissed me again, allowing me to grab one of her tits in my left hand, pinching the nipple, eliciting gasps from her as we kissed.

She began to kiss my neck again, down my collarbone, her blonde hair tickling my chest as she nibbled my nipples and moved further down, her knees now on the floor as she kissed around my navel. Her small hand began to creep up the inside of my thigh sending shivers up my spine, before it reached my erection, her fingers gripping the shaft as she began to stroke the seven inches.

Her mouth caught up with her hand and began to plant kisses on the swollen head, causing me to moan aloud. She began to follow her hand up and down the shaft, planting kisses as she went. Coming back up the shaft she opened her lips and engulfed my head in her warm mouth, saliva coating my cock. She began to suck on the head of my cock as her hands worked the shaft up and down, giving me the best blow-job I had ever experienced. Watching her mouth work my cock, I found it hard to imagine that this was the same girl I had met only a couple of hours ago, so bubbly, now she was horny and a wild child.

She put her hands round my back and began to take more of my shaft in her mouth, filling up her mouth with about four of my seven inches inside her. She sucked hard and began to bob on the cock, sending pleasure shooting through my body. I placed my hands on the back of her head and guided her, not that she needed help. I ran my hands through her soft hair, loving every second of the oral sex I was receiving.

Suddenly she stopped and moved back from my cock, grinning outrageously.

"Oh yea, did I forget to say, I can be a bit wild in the bedroom!"

"Or in the car!" I pointed out with a laugh. She laughed, "That was awesome by the way." She smiled mischievously, as if to suggest the best was yet to come, bent over, her sexy ass facing me, and began to peel her knickers off, agonisingly slowly, revealing her ass and I could see her swollen pussy lips, pink, puffy and wet, waiting for me. I reached out and slapped her ass, causing her to gasp.

"Stop being so naughty, teasing me."




Thanks for the Memories



"Oh, I'm sorry, have I been a bad girl?" I grinned, leaned forward and, before she could do anything, ran my tongue up her exposed pussy lips, tasting the sweet nectar. She groaned and spun around.

"Enough foreplay, I want you now." She pushed me back onto the seat, stepped out of her panties and straddled me, her knees on either side of my hips. Raising herself slightly, she positioned my cock at her pussy lips and slid down onto me, letting out a long sigh as she did. Inside her was warm and velvety and her pussy felt like an almost perfect fit for my cock as I filled her up to the hilt. She buried my cock fully inside her and sat there for a moment, allowing me to take stock of my surroundings. Here I was, inside a pristine limo, with a naked Cecilia Ahern, who just sat on my cock and was about to ride me.

She lifted her ass and slipped it back down, building up a rhythm as she fucked me. I began to thrust back upwards, meeting her hips as she went down on me. Falling into a good speed, I placed my hands on her hips, pulling her down onto my cock faster, pushing all the way into her with each thrust. We were both moaning as we fucked, our animal noises filling the back of the stretch.

She pressed her torso to me; her pert tits crushed into my chest, and began to bounce her ass on my cock. I was in heaven, looking over her shoulder to see her perfect ass bouncing on my lap. I could smell the coconuts from her hair; feel her hard nipples pressed into my chest, her thighs running against mine as we screwed in the back of the limo. I lifted her chin and kissed her, inhaling her scent and flitting my tongue into her mouth.

She stopped moving and lifted herself off me, leaving my cock feeling abandoned and cold, out of her warm interior. Winking at me, she turned around, bent over and began to lower herself onto me again. I entered her again, from behind this time, and she leaned back, placing a hand on either side of me for leverage and began to slam her ass back into me. We quickly built up a ferocious rhythm and I reached around her, fondling her left breast with my left hand, while my right hand found its way to her sensitive clit, which I started to rub and play with as she rode me reverse cowgirl style. She was moaning loudly now, all inhibitions thrown to the wind. She tossed her head from side to side, her hair brushing my face as she did.

"Yes!! Yes!! Yes!! That's it Pete, play with my clit, make me cum!!" This spurred me on and I somehow managed to double my efforts, slamming my hips upwards to meet her, my balls slapping her ass, my fingers rubbing over her clit, becoming coated with her juices as I did so. I felt a stirring in my balls,

"Fuck, Cecilia, I'm cumming." I groaned

"Yes, fill me Pete, I'm going to cum." She let out a long, drawn-out moan that sounded almost like a scream and her pussy began to pulse around my cock, adding to my pleasure and throwing me overboard, my cock beginning to pulse on its own and my groans added to the sound of Cecilia's orgasm as I spurted my semen inside her.

As we both came down from our orgasms, she clambered off me, breathing heavily, sweat glistening off her naked glorious body.

"Wow," she said, "I haven't came like that in a very long time." She grinned as she sat next to me. She grabbed her skirt and top, hastily dressing herself, I followed suit. She switched on the intercom between our part of the limo and the drivers cabin, asking when we would be arriving.

"We've been here for five minutes Cecilia." She looked mildly amused at this and opened the door. I assumed this was where the night would end, but how wrong I was. As I stepped out the car I realised I didn't recognise the area we were in.

"Um, Cecilia, I hate to point out the obvious, but I don't live here."

"Of course not you silly bugger, this is my house," she gestured to a detached house on the cul-de-sac, "I hope that's not all you have to offer me?" I grinned sheepishly and allowed her to take me by the hand and lead me up the driveway, into her house. 

She dragged me up the stairs,

"I'm sweating buckets here; I need a shower, you coming?" I laughed and, like a sheep to the shepherd, followed her to the huge bathroom. The cold tiles under my feet were light grey, the walls tiled white with a patterned border. In one corner there was a toilet and sink, and the far away wall was a gigantic walk in shower. She turned on the water, turned to me and kissed me hard. Breaking the kiss, she pulled off her top and skirt, naked again. I copied her and chased her into the now steaming water, feeling it sooth me. 

I turned to my naked goddess and pressed her against the wall, pressing my lips to hers. She kissed back, then bit down on my lower lip, causing me to growl in pain, not once breaking our kiss. I let her go and she once again sunk to her knees in front of me, wasting no time in taking my semi-hard cock into her mouth. She sucked on it and played with my balls, her nails gently scratching my scrotum, and I was quickly erect again. She stood up, pleased with herself and I turned her around, pushing her against the wall again, biting on her neck and shoulder as I did. I placed my cock between her legs and rubbed it against her pussy lips, feeling the water running there. I stepped back from the wall to allow her to bend over slightly, her hands pressed against the slippery tiles.

I pushed into her again from behind, in control this time, sliding my entire member inside her. She gasped at the intrusion as I pulled out and pushed in again, slowly getting faster and harder. My hands went to her hips, using them to pull her onto me as I fucked her. She used her hands as leverage to push back against my thrusts, working her muscles around my shaft. Her velvety haven was so soft and warm around my cock, it was the nicest pussy I've ever fucked.

We stopped fucking and left the shower, our naked bodies dripping wet. We made our way next door to a living room, complete with fireplace, where a warm fire crackled merrily. I didn't think to ask who had started the fire. We sat on the sofa and started to kiss again. This time I took control and began to kiss her neck, tasting her perfume, onto her collarbone, down her sternum, into her cleavage. I took my time, paying special attention to her nipples, which seemed incredibly sensitive, she would moan and groan, every time I touched them. I ran my tongue over the hard nipples, around her pink areolas and slowly downward to her flat stomach, around her navel. I slipped off the couch and onto the floor, kneeling in front of her.

I kissed up her legs from the knees, spreading her legs open, trailing kisses up the inside of her thighs. I gently kissed over the swollen lips of her pussy, light touches to drive her crazy with lust. Once I planted a kiss on her clit and she let out a yelp of ecstasy. She kept trying to thrust her hips up to meet my mouth, but every time she did, I moved away, denying her the release she desired.

"Please Pete, do it, I can't take your teasing anymore, it's driving me mad! I want you to lick my pussy!" I grinned at the effect I was having on her and gave her what she wanted. I ran my tongue up the length of her slit, flicking her clit at the top. I then repeated this with my finger, before I used my tongue to slide her folds open and lick her insides, triggering a growl of happiness from Cecilia. I began to flick my tongue in and out of her pussy, tasting the honey she gave to me. She was gyrating her hips, trying to force my tongue deeper into her, but I pulled out and turned my attention to her clit.

I licked the sensitive bud, circling it with my tongue, rubbing my fingers up and down her slit, occasionally slipping one inside. She was moaning and groaning, softly sighing my name. I then sucked her clit into my mouth and plunged two fingers into her pussy, releasing a gentle scream from Cecilia. I sucked on her clit, gently nibbling, while my fingers worked her pussy, fucking her. She began to buck her hips harder, her moans louder as her second orgasm approached. She threw her head back and I felt her pussy constrict around my fingers, and her clit pulse against my tongue as she let out a guttural moan and called my name a few times. A gush of juices flowed from her, and I lapped them all up.

She finished cumming and slid off the couch to sit on my lap, pressing my hard cock between her thighs and my stomach. She began to kiss my face, licking up any juices I had missed, which in my mind was the sexiest thing ever. I rolled her over and covered her body with mine, her legs parting to allow me to slip between her thighs. We were on the rug in front of the fireplace, the warm flames drying us from our shower.

I gently slipped my cock inside her, and buried myself to the hilt. She sighed contentedly and gazed into my eyes as I began to push in and out of her. I brushed some of her silky hair from her face and kissed her nose. I ran my hands up and down her sides as we had sex on the plush rug. I was enjoying every sensation, the sight of her gorgeous face and bright eyes staring up into mine, the taste of her tongue as we kissed, the smell of her body as we moved with each other on the floor, the sound of her soft breathing as I slid my member in and out of her and the touch of her skin as I explored her body with my hands.

We weren't fucking any more, we were having sex, it was more intimate, more meaningful. I leaned up on my hands to allow me to move a bit faster against her, sliding my cock in and out of her warm velvet vagina. I kissed her cheek, moving my mouth to her earlobe, gently sucking on it. She softly sighed and wrapped her arms around my back. Cecilia lifted her legs and wrapped her heels together on the small of my back, opening herself up more to my penetration. I felt myself getting close again, and let out a soft groan,

"Oh Cecilia." I moaned again as my cock began to spasm and my sperm shot out into Cecilia again, not as powerful as the first time. As I came down from my orgasm, I didn't pull out of her, I just lay there, covering her with my body, her limbs hugging me close.

I don't know how long we lay there, but when I eventually moved and withdrew my flaccid penis from Cecilia, she was sound asleep, her pretty face peaceful. I was dry, the fire having evaporated most of the water. The fire was almost burnt out now, just a few flames flickering here and there. I gently scooped Cecilia up and moved though to a bedroom. I lay her naked form down on top of the covers and slid up next to her, placing a hand on her stomach.

I lay there beside Cecilia Ahern, naked, having just had the best sex of my life. I was gently stroking her face and hair, watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful and innocent, her cheeks still bright and rosy, a smile on her face even in her sleep.

I guess I must have drifted off eventually, because next thing I knew I was awakening and it was light out. I quickly noticed that I was still on top of the covers, and that Cecilia wasn't there. I slipped off the bed and found a robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door, which I used to cover my nakedness. I wandered through the house and found Cecilia in the kitchen, cooking up some eggs for breakfast. I said good morning to her and smiled. She smiled back and said breakfast was on its way. I thanked her and sat at the dining table.

She served up scrambled eggs and we sat and ate in silence, completely comfortable together. She was wearing a thin purple robe, loosely tied so that it came open just between her breasts.

I spent the morning with Cecilia in her house before I finally had to say goodbye. We exchanged email addresses and phone numbers and agreed to stay in touch. I don't know if we will. We hugged and she kissed my lips gently, and as I was leaving she said,

"You know, I don't think I ever actually signed your book for you." She smiled,

"You know, I don't think you did." I grinned. She took my book off me, dashed inside the house and came back a moment later.

"There you go, all yours." She opened the front cover and kissed the first page for me. I laughed a bit and took the book back. We said goodbye again, hugged and kissed again and then I was on my way. I felt a bit sad, but hopefully we'll stay in touch.

I walked for five minutes, hailed a cab back to my flat. Back to reality. As I entered my living room I realised I hadn't read what Cecilia had written in the book. I fished it out of the bag and opened it,

"To Pete,

Thanks for the Memories

Love,

Cecilia

xxx"



Thanks for the Memories



(Note: this story is a sequel to my earlier two-part Restarted. However, it should more or less stand alone; anyway, it shifts the viewpoint.)

****

James saw the young woman half-way down the corridor, and hurried to catch up with her. As he pursued her, he assessed her out of sheer habit. Face not especially stunning, from what he'd seen, but perfectly pleasant; clothes blatantly chain store-purchased, painfully ordinary, but showed some sense of style; figure slim and moved well, in a way that suggested that she probably took plenty of exercise.

He suddenly realised that he didn't know whether that last was fashionable or not these days. Less than a year ago, he'd still kept track of such questions. He'd had a lot on his mind recently, but he was still surprised at himself.

"Ms Edwards?" He spoke as he caught up with her, and she stopped and looked at him. "I'm sorry to bother you, but one of the doctors suggested that I should talk to you. My name's James Molyneux."

She blinked. "There must be some mistake," she said. "I'm not on the staff here. I'm just visiting a friend..."

"No, I understand that," he replied. "The doctor seems to think that you might have some advice for me on -- well, on dealing with Restarted, I suppose."

She shrugged. "It's nice to hear that some of them trust me that much," she said. "Okay, I've got a few minutes -- let's go sit down. The coffee here isn't too bad."

He walked alongside her on the way to the hospital's tiny public coffee lounge. "Who do you know here?" she asked conversationally along the way. "I mean, which patient?"

"Helena Frankbridge."

"Don't know her, I'm afraid. What's your relationship? Is she your mother?"

"She's my wife."

That got him an interested glance, with an odd look to it, but he was fully used to that. He also noticed that she hadn't reacted to Helena's name. That was only a little surprising; once, it would have been more so.

"Forgive my asking," she said, "but how old are you?"

"I'm fifty-two."

"And how old is your wife?"

"She's seventy-three."

"Right." She took that in, but she didn't look shocked. "That's young for a patient in here. Was she an early Alzheimer's case or something?"

"No. Her memory was going a little bit, and she had a few health problems, but nothing the doctors would call serious."

Now, Ms Edwards looked puzzled. "Then how come she's been Restarted?" she asked.

They'd reached the coffee lounge by now, and James gave Ms Edwards the first chance to get something from the compact, modern machine in the corner. "I said that the doctors didn't think she had a problem," he said, "but Helena disagreed. She was... She is a very self-possessed woman. Everything that happened to her -- every ache, every forgotten name -- made her angry. She insisted that being Restarted was what she wanted."

Ms Edwards stood back from the machine to give him his chance. Out of habit, he ordered a decaffeinated espresso. "I assume that the doctors told her what the effects would be, though?"

"Oh yes. But as I said, she's very self-possessed. Very strong-willed. She was determined."

"I'm still surprised that the doctors agreed."

"She's also very rich. Very, very rich, to tell you the truth. I'm afraid that enough money can still bend a lot of rules, even in medicine. There's a table over there."

They sat down, and Ms Edwards sipped her coffee. "Okay, Mr Molyneux..."

"Please, call me James."

"Fine. I'm Delia. Anyway, how long have you been married?"

"Legally, just over a year." James smiled. "But we've been together for over thirty years. Helena wanted to be sure that there'd be no difficulties with me acting for her while she was being treated."

Ms Edwards smiled back. "Forgive me, but that's a fair age difference," she commented.

"You mean that I must have been her toy boy, back then? Don't worry, I got used to being called that."

"Oh, don't worry yourself. I've been called worse." Ms Edwards took another sip of coffee. "Which doctor pointed you towards me, by the way?"

"Doctor Easterling."

Ms Edwards smiled. "Oh, yeah -- Doc Easterling is okay. I wish she'd persuade her staff to be as polite about me when I might be in earshot, though."

"What do you mean? What do they say?"

"If you must know, they call me the Wrinkly-Fucker."

James coughed slightly and put his coffee down. Ms Edwards shrugged.

"It's bullshit, of course."

"Oh. Right."

"The Restarted must be the least wrinkly people in this entire building."

James looked at her, and she held a bland expression for a second before she smiled. "Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to shock you. If you really want to know, I've only been to bed with three of the Restarted, and I did that because I liked and wanted them as people, not out of any weird obsession with screwing ninety-year-olds. Well, I guess that the third was a bit of a charity fuck..."

"Uh-huh."

Ms Edwards took the neutral response as a prompt to say more. "That was Vaughn," she explained. "The poor bastard really was an Alzheimer's case. He completely lost ten years of his life -- wiped out, worse than most -- and then, when he came out from the treatment, he not only found a world that he didn't understand, he discovered that most of his family were dead. He was completely lost."

"So you..."

"I was sorry for him from the start, of course, and I spent some time talking to him. But I decided, in an amateur sort of way, that he needed some kind of new start -- something to make him feel that life was worth living. And I did -- do -- like him, and honestly, all the Restarted do look great. So I took him home."

****

Vaughn still looked lost as ever as Delia led him into her bedroom, but he responded a little as she kissed him on the mouth. Then she stood back half a pace, smiled at him reassuringly, and began to unfasten his belt. He looked stunned for a moment, then hastily finished the job, so she began to unbutton his shirt as he quickly removed his pants.

Suddenly, he was all haste, stripping naked quickly and clumsily. She put her hands on his arms in a reassuring gesture, then stepped back and began to remove her own clothes -- but he seemed frantic with desire, embracing her when she was down to bra and panties. So she led him to her bed and lay down beside him, putting a hand on his swelling erection. He plunged his face into her cleavage, dampening her breasts with furious kisses while he moaned softly in the back of his throat, and at the same time, he scrabbled at her panties, pushing them down her thighs.

So she stopped trying to slow him down, and finished removing them for him. He looked at her, still with that confused and lost expression mixed with the raw desire, so she smiled at him again, spread her thighs, and murmured a soft "c'mon."

He obeyed instantly, clambering into position, and she put one hand on his chest to slow him for a moment, then used the other to take hold of his erection and guide it to the lips of her cunt. He pushed into her instantly, without being prompted, and she gasped at his frenzy as he pounded inside her.

"Easy, lover..." she tried to say, but within moments, he came explosively with a cry of release. Then he collapsed on top of her, and his cock began quickly to shrink.

"Wow," she murmured, then repeated "wow" as he rolled off her. She sat up, feeling his semen trickling onto her thighs, and finally removed her bra before she lay down to hold him again. "That was fun," she said, "but let's..."

But then she noticed that he was weeping softly. "Easy," she said to him, "easy..."

But he didn't seem to want to talk, instead merely curling up in her arms. So she held him gently and caressed his brow, saying nothing but smiling when he looked at her. It was a warm afternoon, and they eventually dozed a little.

But an hour or two later, Delia was awoken by the feeling of lips on her nipples, and she found Vaughn kissing her, much more carefully than before. She looked down at him with a soft murmur of pleasure, and he looked back at her.

"I think that I used to be quite good at this," he said.

"You're doing fine," she agreed. He returned to her nipples, then moved down, over her belly to her groin. He nuzzled at her pussy, and she spread her thighs for him. His tongue began to trace over her clitoris, and she realised that he was indeed doing fine. "Yes," she said, "you're remembering, aren't you?"

He took his time, and she went along with that, slowly building to a soft, shuddering orgasm. Only then did he move his mouth up her body again, pausing briefly at belly and nipples before he kissed her full on the lips, the faint taste of her cunt-juices adding spice to the warmth of his mouth. She was pleased to feel that he was hard again, so she guided him into herself, and they lay for a moment, rocking gently with him pressing against and hard inside her. He supported himself on his hands and looked down at her with a smile that was only a little bit sad.

"You're pretty good," she said.

"I had a good teacher," he replied.

"Okay..." she murmured.

"But she's been dead for seven years now."

"Oh. Sorry."

"So am I," he said, "but... I suppose it has been seven years. So I guess I'd better get on with my life."

"I guess you had," Delia said, locking her legs round his and moving a little more vigorously. His smile became dreamy and detached, but Delia realised that he wasn't ignoring her; she suspected that he was distracting himself, holding back until she came again with a cry of pleasure. Only then did he allow himself to let go, squirming frenziedly against her, groin to groin, until he gave a groan and she felt his cock pulsing and throbbing deep inside her.

Then he slowed down and gently lowered himself onto her. A few moments later, his cock had deflated, and he rolled off her and lay beside her with that soft smile again.

"Thanks," he said.

"Welcome back," she replied.

****

Delia took another sip of coffee. "Anyway," she said, "I assume that Doc Easterling didn't send you to me to discuss my private life. What is it that she thinks I can help you with?"

James paused, choosing his words. "You're obviously close to some of the Restarted," he said.

"I guess that's the popular polite term round here. Sorry, I'm sounding irritated now -- I shouldn't let a couple of bad jokes from the nursing staff get on my nerves. Yeah, anyway, I've made a few friends here."

"Yes, well. Helena's now Restarted too -- she's up and talking again, and very healthy indeed. But I have this problem dealing with that. I mean, my wife is -- was -- twenty years older than me. She was a dignified, mature woman. Always was. The woman in that hospital room is..."

He paused. "Let me guess," Delia said across the silence, "so far as you can see, she's a skinny, flawless twenty-something with the bounciness of a teenager."

"Something like that."

"How's her memory from before? Does she remember you properly?"

"Fairly well, I think, but she missing quite a few bits."

"That's normal."

"Yes, they did warn us. But she doesn't quite seem to know what to make of me."

"Oh, they all get a bit confused about everything. They're having to remake themselves almost from scratch." Delia stared at James. "Hmm. Doc Easterling sent you to me, and even she knows me first and foremost as the woman who's screwed three of her patients. Is this about sex?"

"Partly. Helena's made a few jokes about ... she seems quite, well, positive on the subject."

"Like I said, the bounciness of a teenager. Look, the best advice I can give you on that subject is to get hold of some Viagra before they send her home with you. No offence, but keeping up with her may be your only real problem."

James scowled at her. "You assume that I'm happy with that," he snapped.

"You aren't? Wow. Very something of you, I guess. But look, she is your wife..."

"Is she? She's not the woman I met years ago, let alone the one I lived with for all that time."

"She is and she isn't. They call it Restarted for a reason." Delia finished her coffee. "Forgive me for asking, but how was your sex life before she came in here?"

"It was fine. It doesn't stop at fifty, you know, or at seventy."

"No, I'm sure it doesn't. For that matter, excuse my putting it this way, but if you were some kind of toy boy, I assume that it was always pretty good for somebody."

"I guess that you could say that..."

****

They'd met briefly a few times, at fashion shows and industry events, but the big party for the London design house's spring collection was the first time that they'd exchanged more than a dozen words. She seemed interested in him, asking him about his career plans and swapping business gossip, but then, when they found themselves alone in a quiet corner, she stared wordlessly at him for a couple of seconds, then nodded. "Come on," she said.

"Where?" he asked, puzzled.

"To the bathroom. Actually, let's make it the one at the back on the second floor. You come along in two minutes. I'll be there."

And with that, without waiting for a reply, she slipped away. He paused, staring at his drink, unsure what he was being offered. Drugs, very likely, he thought, and he was unhappy, because that wasn't really his style -- but he had the definite feeling that Helena Frankbridge wasn't somebody he wanted to annoy, not if he was serious about the modelling career.

However, as soon as he reached the bathroom and slipped inside, it became extremely obvious that he'd guessed wrong. The much-admired, cool and clever Ms Frankbridge grabbed him as soon as he was through the door, and pressed her mouth against his -- although he did notice that she deftly locked the door behind him at the same time. Then she pulled away from him, and while looking him in the eye, did something that involving pulling up the complex, colourful synthetic-fabric skirt she was wearing. Glancing down, he realised that she had raised it well up, and that what looked like an expensive lace thong was slipping down her thighs to the floor.

He met her gaze again, smiled, and lowered himself to his knees. She made a questioning noise in her throat, and then backed up a foot or two until she reached a nearby counter surface. He followed her, and then grasped her hips gently with both hands and lifted her just enough, so that she was half-sitting on the counter. Her complicated, lightweight skirt ended up draped over his head as he buried his face in her pussy, which he found was neatly waxed, leaving just a tuft of hair.

Parting her outer cunt lips with his tongue, he explored her until he found her clitoris, and then set to work. She gasped, once briefly and once at greater length, and then began murmuring softly as he stimulated her. He didn't rush it, but he pushed her to gasping orgasm soon enough, then emerged from under her skirt with a grin.

"God," she murmured, "that's above and beyond..."

"I hoped that you'd like it."

"You certainly try harder than most young men offered a quick bathroom screw."

Actually, he'd assumed that he was expected to put a special effort in for Ms Helena Frankbridge. But he didn't think that it would be tactful to say that, so he simply smiled and unfastened his pants, then pushed them and his briefs half-way down his thighs as she looked at him with a thoughtful smile. He had a condom in his wallet, but before he could extract that, she was offering him one that had emerged from her expensive-looking purse, and he carefully fitted it to his ready erection.

He moved forward a few inches to put his cock in position, and she immediately took hold of it, putting it exactly in place. He pushed up as she half-slipped off the counter, and they both gasped as he found himself deep inside her. Then, after the briefest pause, he began thrusting regularly as she moved her hips in a small circular action.

He was still trying to hold back, to make sure that he pleased her, but actually this was pretty damn good, especially when she began murmuring "Yeah, yeah, fuck me, fuck me..." in his ear, and soon his thrusts became harder and faster. He came with a gasp, then paused, but he saw that her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back, and he began moving again as she murmured "Don't stop!" This achieved the desired result; a few seconds later, she gave a soft, significant moan.

He gently lowered her so that she was leaning against the counter, then withdrew his softening cock from her completely. As he went to dispose of the condom, she pulled a handful of tissues from a dispenser on the counter to mop herself up a little. But then he saw that she was smiling at him, with less of a calculating look than before.

"Pretty good," she said.

"It was for me too," he replied.

"I'm glad to hear it. Actually..."

She paused, and he looked at her.

"There's no need for this to be just a one-off screw, you know. If you'd like to do it again some time."

"Sounds good," he said, and he realised that he meant it.

****

"Right," Delia said, "she is your wife, you know, and I'll guess she's still recognisably the same woman, really. So she's acting like a bouncy teenager, and if she's recently Restarted, she'll be looking pretty good. And do remember that you're not being unfaithful to anyone. Why not stop worrying and just enjoy it, if she decides to jump you?"

James scowled. "She is a seventy-three-year-old woman," he said. "The way she's acting now is just so ... undignified."

Delia frowned thoughtfully. "Let me show you something," she said, and reached into her bag. She extracted a pad, and turned it on, and the screen sprang to life. "I had to go away for a few days last week," she continued as she tinkered with the controls, "and a friend of mine, Ann, asked to borrow my apartment while I was away. Now, Ann is Restarted, and while she's getting the hang of the modern world pretty well, she hasn't really taken on board just how many gadgets have built-in cameras these days. So anyway, one evening I thought that I ought to check that my apartment was okay, so I connected to my cameras over the Web, and this is what I saw."

She had been tinkering with the pad as she spoke, and now she turned it and handed it to James. He glanced down and saw that it was playing a video recording, full screen; then he gasped quietly. The screen showed the bedroom of what was doubtless a small apartment, with the bed in the middle of the screen. A man and a woman were both on it, and both naked, and there was little doubt what they were doing. The woman, whose rangy figure and silver-steel hair (in a neat bob) marked her as Restarted, was on her hands and knees; the man -- young, youthful even, with short dark hair -- was kneeling behind her, thrusting his hips, doubtless deep inside her.

Then another man, also naked, came into view, and clambered onto the bed, kneeling in front of the woman. She raised one hand, first sweeping her hair back from her face where it had fallen, then taking hold of his swelling cock. She looked at it for a moment, then raised it to her mouth and engulfed the first third of its length. Its owner paused for a moment, looking down at her, then began moving his hips carefully. The first man was staring at all this, and was evidently turned on; he began to move faster and harder. The threesome swayed for a moment, then found a working rhythm, the woman's hips grinding against the first man as she worked on the second's cock with mouth and hand...




Thanks for the Memories



James grunted and pushed the pad back toward Delia. "Does your friend know that you spied on her? That you're showing people that?" he demanded.

"Spied? I told you, it was an accident. But anyway, I've shown her that recording."

"Really? And what did she say."

"Oh, she fell about laughing. But anyway, I'm not showing it to people; I showed it to you..."

"Showed me her humiliation..."

"Humiliation?" For a moment, Delia looked puzzled. "Oh, I suppose it could look that way. Could be that way, if the people were different. Oh yeah, now I get it... Have you got a sound player on you?"

Puzzled in turn, James pulled a music player out of his pocket. Delia deftly touched it to her pad, told the two devices to talk to each other, and then handed it back. "You didn't hear the soundtrack to that little scene. Here, put your headphones on."

James obeyed, and Delia set the video playing again as it lay on the tabletop between them. Now, James did indeed hear what was said in the apartment as the scene played out. To begin with, there was a soft grunting from the first man, and a soft moaning from the woman -- who did sound happy enough. Then he heard her speak.

"Do come here, you sweet boy... Yes, really, it's fine."

The second man came into view, but neither he nor the first said anything. Then, when the woman took hold of his cock, she spoke again. Delia's cameras evidently had a sensitive, self-adjusting microphone, which picked up everything clearly.

"Oh god, that is gorgeous. I'm really -- oh -- getting to love cock, y'know. Now come here..."

Delia paused the player and smiled at James. "Oh dear, I seem to be doomed to shock you today, don't I?" she said as he looked stunned at her. "I should explain that Ann slept with exactly one man in the first ninety years of her life," she continued. "I'm afraid that she's rather making up for lost time now."

"But still... Being spit-roasted!"

"Beg pardon? What-roasted?"

"Sorry -- slang from when I was much younger."

"It sounds charming. But look, you're missing the point here. Thinking of Ann as a ninety-two-year-old woman doesn't make much sense, really. But she's not really a young woman either. She's Restarted, and that's what Restarted -- well, some Restarted -- find comes naturally. Or maybe there is a little bit of humiliation involved, and she's exploring how much she might enjoy it."

"So you think that that is all okay?"

"Consenting adults and all that. So I take it that you've never tried anything like that yourself, anyway."

****

It was a scruffy apartment where he was living with a couple of friends including Marco, all of them still trying to break into the business, to get noticed. That evening, he and Marco had been out on the town with other people, and then somehow ended up home with Sally, who was working as assistant to a photographer who'd been handling a big catalogue contract lately. James had gone off to the bathroom, and when he came back, it was to discover Marco and Sally entangled, Marco's shirt off and his hands inside Sally's T-shirt, unfastening her bra.

"Oops, sorry," James said.

"No sweat, man," Marco said, looking up at him. "Hey, no need to rush off."

"You two look like you're busy," James said with a shrug.

"Yeah, but there's no need for you to miss out on the fun," said Marco. "Sally would like that, wouldn't you, Sal?"

"Mmm," Sally murmured, looking back over her shoulder at James. He wasn't really sure, at heart, how certain she looked -- but she wasn't saying no, and he was feeling horny -- he'd had hopes about her all evening -- so he advanced into the room as Marco pulled Sally's T-shirt and bra off, and then moved to make space for James. For a couple of minutes, they took one breast each, tonguing Sally's nipples while she caressed their heads, one with each hand, before Marco moved up, first kissing her on the mouth while fondling both her breasts. James decided to move down, unfastening the distressed-denim shorts that Sally was wearing, pushing them and her panties down her legs and off over her kitten-heeled ankle-boots, then probing her blonde-bushed pussy with his tongue; meanwhile, though, Marco was continuing to move up, opening his fly as he went so that his rigid cock sprang out as Sally's face came level with it.

Sally squirmed and twisted round, ending up kneeling on the floor as Marco sat on the sofa. James stood up as she began to suck Marco, who moaned appreciative encouragement at her. James shed most of his clothes, then knelt behind Sally, guiding her legs a little further apart. He probed her cunt with a finger, finding it damp; she didn't respond immediately as her caressed her clitoris with other fingers, but then she raised her ass higher.

Something in the back of his mind that might have been sense spoke to him, and he rummaged among his clothes as Sally used her mouth on Marco, who watched James while looking puzzled. But then, James turned back to the pair while rolling a condom onto his cock, grasped Sally's hips to align himself, and pushed her. He grunted as he found his erection firmly gripped, and felt her inner muscles tighten and relax in time with her audible breathing as she sucked Marco.

James looked Marco in the eye, and Marco grinned at him for a moment before looking back at Sally and tousling her hair. "Nice girl," he said.

James looked at Sally again himself, reaching under her torso with both hands to fondle her breasts and pinch her nipples gently. She murmured softly in her throat, rocking slightly back and forth so that her mouth moved on Marco's cock and her cunt on James's. Marco grunted softly and slumped back on the sofa, and after a moment, he moaned slightly and convulsed.

Sally lifted her face away from him, and James glimpsed a glistening trail of semen on Marco's crotch. Then he concentrated on thrusting into her regularly, firmly, on fondling her breasts as she sat back and up. After a moment, he moved one hand down to her crotch to fondle that, and he felt her hands atop his, one at the breasts, one at the groin.

"Baby..." he murmured in her ear, but she showed no signs of responding to his voice, concentrating instead on moving his hands with her own in a rhythm of her choosing. After perhaps a minute, she sighed softly. It sounded like a small orgasm at best, but James took it as a prompt to stop holding back, and convulsed inside her.

Moments after that, Sally disentangled herself from him and began gathering up her clothes almost immediately, leaving James to dispose of the condom as Marco watched with an ironic half-smile.

"Can I get a taxi?" Sally asked. Marco waved toward the apartment phone.

That was the only evening when that happened -- the only time he ever got Sally into bed, in fact -- and within months, he'd lost touch with both the other two. Marco had slipped out of the business in the end -- he didn't quite have what it took. Sally, James next encountered years later, when she emerged as a photographer herself, whose pictures were noted for their homoerotic and fetishistic imagery. Helena admired her work, used her a few times. James never quite got around to mentioning that evening to Helena.

****

"And the men?" James asked, scrabbling for something to say.

"Oh, they're a couple of waiters from a restaurant round here. We went there together, actually. They flirted with her then -- they flirt with all the female customers -- and she flirted right back, hard. She's still got more enthusiasm than subtlety. I really thought that she scared them off, but obviously I was wrong."

"Do they know about that recording?"

"They should know about cameras, shouldn't they? But I imagine that their reputations would survive, even if I let more people see the video. Like I said, they're terrible flirts."

"Hmm." James found that he was confused, although thirty years in a pretty decadent business had left him, as he thought, more than broad-minded.

"But anyway," Delia said, tapping the pad, "perhaps you should look at this a different way."

"How's that?"

"It's really not very difficult for the Restarted to get laid, you know. Think about it -- they look young and slim, they're enthusiastic, their health implants say they're a hundred percent fine... They're sex on legs, really. So it sounds like your Helena is getting interested, and you're the obvious place for her to start. But if you turn her down often enough, she may decide to make a completely new start, and find somebody else."

"She... I don't think that she..."

"Don't assume too much, James. She'll have fuzzy memories of her past, but apparently, they always seem a bit remote. And if you tell her that she doesn't seem like your wife, well, she may take that at face value. Perhaps that would suit you fine -- I don't know. But I suggest that you need to decide whether it does suit you, while you've still got the choice."

James gazed at her. "Thank you for your advice," he said at length, and drained the last of his coffee.

"No trouble. Where are you going now?"

"For a long walk. You're certainly right about one thing -- I need to make some decisions, and I find a walk clears my head."

Delia smiled, not unsympathetically. "Best of luck, whatever you decide," she said.

James glanced back at her as he left the room, and saw that she was still sitting over her coffee cup, gazing at him with a thoughtful expression.

He did take a long walk, although by the end, he wasn't sure if he was any more certain of anything than when he started. When he finally returned to the leased apartment, he opened the door with his thumb and voiceprint, stepped inside, and then paused. Distant sounds suggested that something was running -- the shower, maybe? Could the cleaners have operated it for some reason? Or maybe the sound was a plumbing leak?

The sound stopped. James frowned, and spoke to the microphone by the lock. "House," he asked, "is there any sign of intruders?"

"No unauthorised occupants present," the apartment's systems said after a momentary pause. James frowned again, and made his way into the lounge area. A second after he closed the door, another door opened on the far side of the room.

"Hi," said Helena.

She was wearing one of his bathrobes -- of course, any clothes that she'd left in the place after she went into the hospital had gone into storage -- and he noticed that she was wearing it just right. She hasn't lost her touch, he reflected; even with something as simple as that, there were ways to make it hang over the shoulders and to loosely tie the belt that made a difference. She was just brushing her short, steel-grey hair, which looked like she'd just finished drying it, and she smiled at him casually.

"What -- what are you doing here?" he demanded.

"It's my apartment, I gather," she answered calmly but with a smile. "It's funny -- I don't remember it very well, but the door lock still remembered me."

"But how did you get here?"

"Somebody got me a cab, actually."

"Who? Oh, hold on -- was it that Delia Edwards woman?" he guessed.

"No, actually. It was Doctor Molyneux. But you're right, I did meet Delia..."

"Molyneux? Is she supposed to let her patients wander off in public like this?"

"She's not supposed to keep people prisoners when they're free adults, I don't think. She said it'd do me good to get out a little."

"But what if the building hadn't let you in?"

"Oh, she called it first. And actually, Delia came along to make sure I was okay."

James sat down hard in an armchair. "This is damnably irresponsible of them," he declared.

Helena remained standing, but leant on the back of another chair while she stared at him. "Doctor Molyneux is my doctor," she said. "She's the one who makes those judgements, you know."

James sighed. "I suppose. Anyway, I hope she's expecting you back."

"Not until tomorrow, if I don't want to go," Helena replied. "She says that it's only because Restarting is such a new thing that they keep people in so long. And because a lot of the patients don't have anywhere to go. But I'm lucky -- we've still got this place."

"So you're planning to sleep here? This place only has the one bed, you know."

"Yes, I saw that." Helena grinned. "And don't you dare start talking about you sleeping on the sofa."

"Oh, good grief," James muttered. "I'm sure that Doctor Molyneux didn't have it in mind for you to, well..."

"You'd be surprised." Helena was still grinning. "I gather that she's told you I'm completely healthy, and yes, she's said that sex would be fine. And I am a responsible adult, you know. Unlike some people, I even have a certificate to prove it."

"Oh good god. Just because you can, doesn't mean that you should. And I've tried to tell you -- if Restarting makes you such a new person, I'm not sure that we can just start over like that."

"I don't see why not. I fancy it enough, damn it. And we are still legally married, tra-la-la. I gather."

"Look," James said, "you're... You look young enough to be my daughter. In fact, when I look at you, I can't helping feeling a bit paternal..."

"Oh no," Helena interrupted. "Uh-uh. That is one place where you do not want to go."

"What do you mean?"

"I may have lost a few things," she explained, "but I still remember some stuff from our time together. Like that whole week we spent holed up in the Ritz in Paris, or that time you wrecked a five-hundred-Euro dress just to get at my boobs a bit faster, or Rome...."

"Okay, okay." James said unhappily, raising his hand to stop her recital. "So you're my wife, and this treatment has the side effect of giving you the urges of a ... teenager, it seems..."

"Not just the urges, actually," she said, glancing down at her own body.

"...Whatever. But if I'm your husband, shouldn't I treat you with a bit of respect? Not take advantage of this passing ... medical effect?"

"It's not just passing. I've been feeling like this for days. And it's not a medical effect -- it's me feeling young again. It's me being young again. And isn't there something about the wedding ceremony about honouring me with your body?"

"I don't remember."

"Neither do I. It's very sad, you know, for a woman to forget her own wedding. But that was in the words when I was young. I remember that very clearly." Helena pouted. "But look, all I'm saying is that you're worrying too much. However I look, I'm not some messed-up model who wants a father figure; I'm you're wife, I'm an adult woman, and frankly, I could do with a fuck."

"Is that how you see it?" James said with a scowl.

"Yes," said Helena, "and I don't see the problem with that." She unfastened the belt of the robe, and threw it off with a shrug. It slipped to the floor, and Helena, who had been wearing nothing else, stepped around the chair she'd been leaning against and advanced across the room toward James.

He gasped. Although he'd seen Helena often enough in lightweight hospital gowns or shorts and singlets since she'd been Restarted, this was the first time that he'd seen her naked, and the full effect of her new appearance hit him like a blow. The process left patients with no body fat to speak of, and the doctors then advised them to take enough exercise to make sure that what they developed was muscle rather than flab. Helena had responded to this with a flash of her old familiar single-minded willpower, spending hours in the hospital gymnasium. That video had shown that Delia's friend Ann had a youthfully slender body, but Helena was way beyond that, with the visible whipcord musculature of an Olympic sprinter -- and she moved like a panther.

Helena paused at James' startled look, and glanced down at her body, although she seemingly misunderstood his response. "Sorry," she said, "the process took away my boobs, and I know you always liked those. The doctors say that they should come back..."

"That's not the point, but... They're fine, honestly. But you ... look, the more I see of you,literally, the less you seem like the Helena I remember. And if I want anybody, that's who I want."

"You don't want this? Fuck it, James!" She was almost shouting at him now. "I know what men want! That's been half my job for fifty years! Don't tell me that this isn't a body that men would want!"

"It's a great body," James said quietly, "but I'm not the randy little bastard you dragged into that bathroom thirty years ago. Damn it, Helena," he said breathing deeply, "I still think of my wife the way she -- the way that you used to be. You're not her, and however good you look, you can't just walk in here and use me to -- to scratch your new itches."

"My itches? You think this is just me getting my rocks off?" Helena stopped dead and looked -- stunned.

"Well, yes, to be honest..."

"Oh god," she moaned, "you don't understand! You've got it all wrong!"

"Then what..."

"I'm trying to repay you!"

"Repay me? What for?"

"For us! For you!" Helena drew a deep breath. "I don't remember everything, but I can remember enough. If I forgot all of our thirty years together, I'd really be empty, wouldn't I? And I remember that you were -- you were great to me. All those years... I think that you were faithful to me, even late on, when I was getting old and wrinkly and losing it. And we were in a business full of gorgeous young girls... And now I'm a young girl, even if I have lost my boobs, and I want you to have some fun with that. It'd be the least I could do, even if I didn't fucking want it myself!"

"Oh," James muttered, "oh, god."

"Yeah," said Helena, still standing naked and flat-footed. "I thought that screwing a nice guy was a good idea, and it turns out that you're too nice to screw me."

"I'm sorry," James said.

"No, I should have seen that you were missing the point." Helena flopped despondently onto a nearby sofa. "You always did." She sniffed, and James saw that she was nearly crying.

Perhaps it was a vestige of that paternal feeling that moved him, but he found that he couldn't leave a weeping woman uncomforted. He moved over, sat beside her, and wrapped her naked shoulders in his arms.

"Sorry," she said, looking at him. "That was a mean thing to say."

"True, though." He kissed her softly on the forehead. "You obviously remember me too well."

"You bet I do," she said, and grabbed his head with both hands, moving it to kiss him full on the lips.

It was a flagrant move, and James wondered why he didn't resist it. Perhaps the wiry strength of her new frame made resistance seem pointless, or perhaps her slim femininity got through to him at last. In any event, he responded to her kiss, entangling his tongue with hers. She moved one hand to his chest, caressing him through his shirt, then, even before either of them broke the kiss, she moved it again to his crotch, fondling him through his pants.

He stopped kissing her, but she just grinned at his startled expression. "C'mon," she said, "let's see how this new body works."

At that point, he realised, he couldn't argue any more without making the woman who he had in his arms break down -- and there was too much of Helena in her smile and her manner for him to even think of that. And so he rose to his feet and put his arms around her with half a thought of carrying her to the bedroom -- but she clambered to her own feet and then jumped, wrapping muscular arms and legs around him and squealing with glee. She didn't weigh too much, and he was still in good enough shape; he was able to carry her that way instead, albeit with his hands supporting her taught buttocks.




Thanks for the Memories



In the bedroom he dropped her onto the bed, where she lay as he began removing his clothes. Years of modelling had left him quite unselfconscious, and he found that this was easy enough, even though he felt like a middle-aged man undressing in front of a giggling young woman. But once he was down to his boxers, she raised a hand and he paused.

"Turn around," she said, "right around."

He obeyed, and saw that she was smiling. "Yes," she said, "that's how I remember you. I'm glad to see that you haven't let yourself go."

He lay down beside her, still wearing his shorts, and carefully extended one hand to touch her, just gently on the shoulder at first. She looked at him, more serious for a moment. "Do I really not seem how you remember me?" she asked.

"You're -- you seem much younger than I ever knew you," he answered, "and you've said yourself that you don't remember everything about our time together."

"But everyone forgets stuff," she said, "and there's so much I do remember that's good to remember."

"Such as?"

She giggled, suddenly mischievous again. "Well," she said, "I do remember that you being faithful was only about you not sneaking off behind my back. Because I remember Anton and Juliet."

"That?" James looked uncomfortable. "That wasn't infidelity. That was just ... comparing ideas."

"You say that. But I remember how you looked at Juliet. Among other things."

****

It was the end of what should have been a long day checking over a new shop in Rome -- but the contractors had screwed up, and the new shop was nothing like ready, so they'd had to extend the trip by a couple of days, and they'd ended up sightseeing. They'd brought Anton and Juliet with them -- a pair of good second-string models -- who were going to show some new product at the opening, and then discovered that this pair were a couple. Hanging out together had been fun, especially as no one among the four seemed to know anyone else in the city or to speak Italian, and at the end of the evening, rather than hitting the clubs, they'd somehow ended up back at the hotel with a bottle of champagne, swapping industry gossip.

Then the conversation had moved on, and Helena had asked the other couple how they'd got together, and Juliet had taken that as more of a "why?" than a "how?" question.

"Anton's not someone to turn down," she said, before kissing him hard on the mouth. When she broke the kiss, Anton didn't say anything -- he wasn't a big talker -- but James couldn't help noticing how his hand traced across Juliet's breast as she leant back from him.

"Ah, kids..." muttered Helena.

"Don't tell me that you two don't have a reputation," Juliet shot back.

"You've been reading the gossip columns," James said.

Juliet pouted at him. "Don't worry," she said, "I saw those pap photos from New York last year. I'd guess that you're almost as much fun as Anton."

"Thanks, I'm sure." James shifted in his seat, but suddenly Helena moved to him, kneeling astride him and kissing him twice.

"We do fine," she said over her shoulder to Juliet. "Experience counts, sweetie." She squirmed, and James suddenly became aware that he had an erection. As Helena climbed off him, he shifted again, trying to prevent it from becoming noticeable. But looking across the room, he realised that Anton and Juliet were distracting each other. The were in a tight clinch, and Anton was fondling Juliet's breast through her dress.

Helena looked at the scene for a moment, then shrugged and leant over to kiss James again.

From then on, it seemed to turn into an escalating, half-drunk game of one-upmanship. Anton ran his mouth over Juliet's throat, so James ran his hand up Helena's thigh; Juliet undid a few buttons, allowing Anton access to more skin, so Helena pulled her skirt high up, allowing James to caress and then kiss her legs freely; Juliet stood up and pulled her dress up and off altogether, leaving her in nothing but a silk thong; Helena unfastened the blouse she was wearing, then quickly removed that and the bra underneath; Anton stripped off entirely, kicking off his loafers, then shedding his shirt and then his pants and briefs together; Helena gasped at what she saw then, and James drew her to her feet and took down her skirt and then her panties; Juliet sank to her knees in front of Anton and took his hard cock in her mouth; James stripped off as he and Helena watched Juliet, then knelt in front of the still-standing Helena and applied his tongue to her pussy.

Soon enough, Juliet was lying on the thick-carpeted floor, spreading her thighs wide, and James and Helena paused and sat side by side to watch. Anton knelt between Juliet's legs, and she guided his impressive erection to her Brazilian-waxed pussy. She moaned, almost screamed with pleasure as he filled her, and then he began thrusting into her, his toned buttock muscles driving her inches across the carpet with each thrust as she wrapped arms and legs around him.

"Not bad," Helena acknowledged, absently running a hand down James's belly and brushing his cock. "Let's take a closer look."

They crossed the room, and James sat cross-legged alongside the other two. Anton paused for a moment, raised himself on his hands, and grinned at James, who put his head to one side and looked appraisingly at the couple. "Looks good, doesn't she?" Anton commented as Juliet gasped, recovering her breath.

"You both do," said Helena from where she was still standing behind Anton. Then she stepped around him, placed her feet either side of James's hips, and lowered her naked body down to him. He guided her a little with his hands, and within seconds, she'd impaled her well-lubricated cunt on his erection, sighing with pleasure as she did so.

They sat together, taking their time to build things -- and both glancing sideways from time to time at Anton and Juliet while those two both reached noisy orgasms. Then as Anton rolled off Juliet, they looked at each other, both laughed quietly, and began gradually accelerating their movements.

Preoccupied with his building orgasmic energies and with Helena, James barely registered for a moment as someone moved behind her. Then he felt gentle hands on his shoulders, and slim, sharp-nailed fingers carefully massaging them -- and soft female curves pressed against his back. Jolted to more attention, he saw that Anton was kneeling behind Helena, bending his neck to kiss her shoulders and throat, then reaching hands around her to cup her gorgeous breasts. Anton's fingers tweaked Helena's nipples, then raised them up a little, so that James could lean forward to tongue and suck them. As he did so, he felt Juliet still pressing against his back, and he realised that Juliet and Anton were kissing, mouth to mouth, above his head.

At that moment, though, he heard Helena moan loudly, orgasmically -- twice in rapid succession. Driven to passion by everything that was happening, he leant back again, moving Juliet and Anton apart and meeting Helena's faintly embarrassed-looking gaze. A moment later, he groaned loudly as his cock erupted inside her cunt.

Gasping and smiling, both he and Helena leant back, resting on their hands as Anton and Juliet moved away to slump naked side by side on the couch. Helena looked at them.

"Like I said," she commented, "we do fine. But sure, so do you..."

Anton poured the last of the champagne. "Some employers are a pleasure to work with," he said coolly.

Everyone looked at everyone else for a moment, then burst out laughing. Each of them gathered up a few clothes as they finished the last of the champagne, then dressed more completely when they decided to call reception for another bottle. Soon, they were talking shop as if nothing had happened.

And nothing else so dramatic did happen, that night or for the rest of the trip, which from the next morning on was busy and all about business. Everyone seemingly decided that the subject should remain an unmentioned mutual secret. Helena hired both Anton and Juliet for other jobs after that, no more or less than she might have without any special reason.

Years later, Juliet, semi-retired from modelling and married to a semi-famous singer, gained a reputation as an Earth Mother figure with a brood of children and a knack for giving interviews that made her sound exceptionally practical and grounded. Helena and James often caught each other smiling when those appeared, although they never discussed why.

****

"That was a long time ago."

"Sure. But it obviously stuck too well with me to be wiped. But don't worry, darling -- I also remember what I was doing during a lot of that ... session."

"What?"

"Sneaking a lot of looks at Anton's cock, first of all. He was huge, you know, darling. I didn't dare say anything to you, or you'd have gotten jealous. And then there was his ass, when that was what was most visible. And when he was behind me, well, I was feeling him as well as you there, you know. Just like you had Juliet's perfect boobs against you..."

"Yes, well. A long time ago."

"You're getting pompous again, darling."

"Sorry." He sighed, gently caressing her shoulder again. "Okay, you're my wife..."

"I damn well am."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, move your hand from..." She giggled as he hastily lifted his hand. "No, don't take it away. Put it it on my boob, darling."

He began to obey, very tentatively, and she sighed dramatically. "Oh dear," she said, "I can't decide if you're treating me like a seventy-year-old woman or a silly young girl. I'm not either, you idiot. Grab them!"

"What?"

"Grab my tits! They're not made of glass, you know. Oh, for heaven's..."

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him onto his back. Instantly, she threw a leg over him and rolled on top of him, so that she was sitting astride his left thigh and he felt short, soft pubic hair brushing his skin.

She looked down at him. "Suck them!" she commanded. "Suck them!" she repeated when he paused. "They're tits, that's what they're for -- you used to be quite good at this. Suck my tits!"

He raised himself up on his elbows, then leaned forward and finally obeyed her demands, grasping her thighs with his hands as he ran his tongue over each of her nipples in turn. She reacted with a gasp, and he paused.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, damn -- yes, sorry. I am. It's just, I'm so sensitive... I didn't know how much sensation I'd lost until I got it back. But don't stop!"

He returned his mouth to her breasts for some moments until she drew back. "How are they?" she asked.

"They're fine," he said. "Neat. Cute, I suppose."

She laughed. "I'm sure that's one thing you've never called me before," she said. She rolled off him and onto her back. He leaned over her and looked her in the eyes.

"Okay," he admitted, "maybe I can enjoy this."

"I told you -- I'd be amazed if you couldn't," she said. "Anyway, a minute ago, we were talking about cocks..."

She twisted round, lithe as a cat, so that she was suddenly lying head-to-toe with him -- or rather, head-to-groin. Then she took hold of his shorts and pushed them down his thighs. "Good," she said, staring at his cock, which was showing signs of a response, "I can't be too hideous." She grabbed his half-erection in one hand, and looked at it. "I think that this usually helped if you were a bit slow starting..."

She kissed the tip of his cock, then wrapped her lips around it. Slowly, teasingly, she engulfed more and more of it. James, silent and uncertain to begin with, gasped at the pleasure, and struggled not to move too much, not to make things difficult for Helena as his cock swelled in her mouth. Turning his head, he realised that her own groin was close to his face. He kissed her at the edge of the mat of short, soft, silvery down that now covered that part of her. She paused.

"How is that?" she asked.

"Fine," he said. "Very different, though..."

She laughed. "One thing I can't get in the hospital," she said, "waxing. Or even a razor."

She returned her mouth to his cock, but after a moment, she withdrew it again. "I think that you're ready," she said.

"I guess," he said. "It's been a while."

"Hmm," she murmured, and twisted round to lie alongside him again. Lying flat on her back, she opened her legs. "Now..." she said tentatively.

James found that he'd become quite eager, and he knelt between her thighs with his erection in his hand. "Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "though you may find that I'm a bit tight..."

He took that as a simple boast about her restored youthfulness, and moved to enter her. She smiled and nodded, and he thrust.

"Ow!" he said as she gave a small, shrill cry. He raised himself on his hands to look at her face, and saw that she was biting her lip.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I mean, I tried to say, but..."

"God," he said, "they did re-start you, didn't they?"

"Yes," she said with a small gasp. "Hello virginity. And goodbye."

He moved carefully. "If I'd known..." he began.

"Don't worry, darling," she said. "Anyway, it wasn't too bad. I've been trying to prepare. Thought that I'd done it better, though."

"To prepare?"

"Yes, darling. With a vibrator."

"Uh? How did you get hold of a vibrator?" James demanded. "That sounds like Delia Edwards again..."

"No, it was Doctor Molyneux again," Helena said. "To be honest, I've been pestering her about sex for days now, and she suggested it."

"I'm not sure that was very professional of her," James said, although in a light tone.

"Well, she says that working with the Restarted is a weird sort of medicine. Anyway, why do you think that she told you to talk to Delia?"

"Hah." He moved a little more. "You know, I think that you may be my first virgin?"

"Wow. You were obviously too attractive to older women in your youth."

"I suppose."

"They both laughed, and settled down to a slow but building rhythm. Helena winced a couple more times, but had apparently done a passable job of preparing herself after all. As James held himself above her, trying to avoid crushing her -- she still seemed impossibly slender to him, he couldn't help thinking of her as fragile -- she clasped one of his buttocks with one hand, digging short, neatly-trimmed nails into his flesh, while with the fingers of her other hand, she gently teased his nipples

"Wooh..." he exclaimed, "you know, I'm not sure how long I can control myself now."

Helena smiled. "Just lie back and relax," she said. Then she bent one leg, applying enough force to start the pair of them rolling over. James went with the motion, and Helena held him easily as he rolled; in a moment, he found himself flat on his back with Helena on top.

She smiled again. "Oh, it's good to be up to this sort of thing again!" she said. She raised herself above him, gyrating her hips, and he raised both hands to cup her breasts.

"They're gorgeous," he said, unprompted this time.

Helena smirked. "I reckon that you're just saying that to be nice to me," she said, "but that's fine..."

She leaned back slightly and, still limber, drew her knees up until she was kneeling astride him with her thighs locked round his hips. Then she ground her crotch furiously against his, rested her hands on his chest, and threw her head back with her eyes closed. She gave a series of increasingly loud gasps in time with her hip movements, culminating in a great groan of pleasure.

Then she stopped and looked at him. "Okay," she admitted, "maybe there is a bit of me getting my rocks off in all this."

"I ... gathered ... that," James said, punctuating his words with soft gasps as he found himself thrusting hard up into her. Then he felt his cock pulsing as he came inside her, and he gave a groan. For a moment, he held his hips inches above the bed, supporting Helena's weight; then he relaxed with a sigh, arms and legs entirely limp.

Helena smiled again -- no, she grinned at him as she lifted herself off and away, and slumped down on the bed beside him. He looked down at his naked body, realising that a little semen and some cunt juices were puddling on his belly.

"You're messier than you used to be," he commented. The fastidious Helena had so often been quick to grab tissues or cloths to mop up after sex.

"Maybe I want to get messy," Helena replied. "It's nice to have the option."

"Hmm." He stroked her hair as she smiled at him. "Was that okay with you?"

"Hell, yes! Good as anything I can remember!"

"Even with the ... virginity thing?"

"That was just added spice, lover. Though maybe the next time will be even better."

"Hmm," he said again. "I'm certainly looking forward to it. But maybe Delia was right about something..."

"What?"

"Oh, just something she said about Viagra."

Helena laughed. "I'm sure we'll manage," she said, and moved a hand to caress his limp cock gently. "Soon, I hope," she added.

"I'll do my best. But yeah, you were right. Even if I can remember more, that was... pretty memorable."

"Good!" Helena said firmly. "Because one day, you may have to be Restarted, and I want you to have some memories left that'll send you back to me then."

He laughed, and turned on his side. "Oh, we'll have plenty of chances to build those up," he said, and squirmed down the bed to bring his face back level with her breasts.

He kissed each of her nipples in turn. "Gorgeous," he repeated.



Thanks For The Quickie



Your hand appears by the folding door of the airplane lavatory just as I'm closing it. You pry it slightly open and slip in quickly through the gap. In a split second, you're in the tiny space with me, bolting the lock behind you. Before I have a chance to react you lunge at me, your hand clamping over my mouth, muffling my cry of surprise.

You press in close, the unmistakable hard bulge of your erection pressing against me. I try to back away, but you have me pinned to the wall.

"You've been avoiding me this entire trip, Alison," you say, breath hot against my cheek. The too-familiar smell of sugarfree nicotine gum on your breath uncoils something white-hot in the depths of my belly. I struggle, but your free hand catches my flailing left hand by the wrist and slams it against the wall. "And I am fucking sick of it."

Engulfed by your powerful frame, I am paralyzed by fear and sheer claustrophobia as you reach down to caress the inside of my thigh. An involuntary shiver runs through my body as your hand trails up to fondle my pantyhose-covered crotch, causing the hem of my pencil skirt to hike up.

"We had a deal," I manage to croak out. "I did what you wanted." I let out a shuddery breath and squirm as you massage my clit through the nylon. I manage to partially extricate my right arm from the corner it had been hemmed in, and paw awkwardly at the hand buried between my legs. "No more, Jason."

"Have you forgotten, slut?" Your hand had snaked up the top of the pantyhose. "Sir."

I turn away from your possessive gaze. "No, Jason. We're done. You promised." Despite my best attempt at firmness, I could hear a pleading note creeping into my voice.

You smile when your fingers glide across my shaven crotch. "You're still keeping it smooth down there. I'm touched." My cheeks burn with shame. I didn't make a habit of shaving my pubic hair until you made me. I don't know why I kept doing it, after.

Fresh panic washes over me as your fingers caress my slit. I can't go through this again. "I'll scream," I whisper, tears in my eyes.

In reply you give the collar of my white blouse a sharp tug, and the first two buttons pop open, exposing the valley of my breasts. I swallow and bite my lip, but do not cry out. A cruel smirk breaks out on your face. We both know it's an empty threat. You're toying with me. I am powerless to stop you, and you know it.

"I hate you," I whisper into the deep thrum of the plane.

You throw me against the lavatory sink top, and bend me over so that my face is pressed against the mirror. I prop my hands on the sink top for support. I tremble as I hear you undo your belt and unzip your pants. The condensation from my ragged breath flares on the cold mirror.

I almost jump when I feel your hands on my hips again. You bunch up my skirt around my waist, and, hooking your thumb under the waistband of my pantyhose, you yank, tearing the flimsy fabric easily. 

You don't keep me in suspense for long, driving your cock right into my pussy from behind with a grunt. I am, to my chagrin, wet enough that the friction in my vaginal canal is pleasurable rather than painful. As you begin fucking me in earnest, you grip my bra strap in your fist through the blouse, pulling both down and baring my shoulders and chest. When you notice that I had closed my eyes in humiliation, you clutch a handful of my dark hair and pull my head back forcefully off the mirror. The sudden pain in my scalp forces my eyes open.

"Look at yourself in the mirror, whore. Look!" you snarl. Reluctantly, I obey. The scene reflected in the mirror is all too familiar, and the memories come, unbidden, to my mind. Of late nights, fingering myself to a video recording my own defilement. You will do what I say, unless you want to become a star. Of collapsing, afterwards, into a sobbing bundle of pleasure and self-loathing.

I try to avert my gaze, but with your hand firmly enmeshed in my hair I only earn myself searing pain in my scalp. I shoot a pleading glance at you through the mirror, and find that you are drinking in my torment, enjoying every moment. Your strokes into me are slower now, deliberate. You bottom out with every stroke, your crotch bumping rhythmically against the back of my thighs, making obscene slapping sounds so loud that I fear the entire plane might hear. The thought, I realize with dismay, excites me, the humiliation licking at my arousal like a lash.

My pussy clenches with hot shame, milking your swollen cock involuntarily. You draw me in closer, your arms wrapping over my neck and flat belly. I feel the scrape of your stubble you nuzzle the back of my neck and bury your face in my hair, now disheveled and almost entirely free from its neat bun. The almost tender gesture takes me off-guard, and my body melts into yours. Forgetting the situation for a moment, I relish the way the back of my shoulder slides, sweaty, against your expansive chest.

"You're mine, Ali," you growl in my ear. Forever, the implication hangs thick in the recycled air, unsaid. I close my eyes, and tears spill over my eyelids, as I fully realize, then, that, I would never be free of you, and indeed, had never really been. I had been incredibly naïve to think otherwise.

A couple of sharp raps on the lavatory door startles us both. "Sir, you need to return to your seat now," the stewardess' muffled voice says through the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," you say, annoyed. "Give me a sec."

Without missing a beat, you begin to speed up. The increased franticness of our fucking pushes me forward, and I gasp as my sensitive nipples are mashed into the mirror, now slippery and misted over with the condensed moisture of our fucking.

You bite into my ear and groan as you tense up, releasing a warm torrent of cum deep in my pussy. You jerk a few more times, then pull out, wiping your wet cock on the remains of my pantyhose. I barely suppress a mewl of frustrated need as the pain of my ear subsides to a dull throb. I had been thirty seconds, at most, away from my own climax.

"Clean yourself up, Ali," you say dispassionately now, zipping up your pants, "and thanks for the quickie." With that you fold the door partially open and slip out as unceremoniously as you had slipped in.



Thanks for the Roses!



Author's note: Welcome to my 2014 Valentine's Day contest entry. If you're new to my work-and seeing this is only my second LW entry you probably are-welcome! Now for my long time readers, a little disclaimer. I made a name here early on writing some dark material. In 2012 I wrote a sweet romance and since then have just enjoyed writing some fun playful group sex stories and some taboo fun. I've gotten some good natured ribbing from readers and author's that I've gone soft. So, for those of you that think that? Happy Valentine's Day, enjoy the story. LC68

*

I turned the hot water off and drawing the curtain back, grabbed a towel and began patting myself dry. I moaned softly as the towel rubbed across my swollen nipples. They'd been hard for so long they aching. Even though I'd indulged in stroking my clit with my soapy fingers, getting myself off in what seemed like record time; they were still hard. Then again, why wouldn't they be? 

It Valentine's Day and I'd been worked all day knowing full well Charles was going to take good care of me tonight. It had been hard to concentrate at work. No matter how hard I tried to focus on boring invoices my mind would keep drifting to what I would be focusing on later; my special someone's nice soft tongue and big hard cock! 

There were times during the day I was squirming in my seat thinking of how good my lips would feel wrapped around his thick shaft and could all but feel his warm cum squirting down my throat.

After all what said Happy Valentine's day better than a nice blow job? An even better pussy licking and Charles knew how to serve my pussy better than anyone else ever had! I forced myself to stop teasing my nipples and while drying my legs continued to let my mind wander to what was soon to come. 

Charles would give me my first treat of the night by bringing me to a screaming orgasm with his amazing tongue then I would get my big gift; his hard cock in my insatiable pussy. Even after all these years, Charles could still have me horny all day just in anticipation of what he would do to me!

I spread my legs and teased the towel along my freshly shaved pussy. Pushing it between my lips, I shuddered as I slid it against my once again swollen button. Tossing the towel in the hamper I turned and looked at my reflection in the full length mirror behind the door. 

Cupping my small, perky tits, I further teased them by rubbing my thumbs across them before picking up the new bra I had bought just for tonight. The bra was pink, but the cups were red heart shaped lace. I could still see my hard nipples through the flimsy material and wished Charles was here right now. He probably wouldn't be here for at least an hour, but I wanted to get ready early and lay there in bed, tormenting myself. 

Picking up the matching thong that consisted of nothing more than pink string with a heart shaped patch of lace between my thighs. Pulling the thong up to my knees, and feeling playful, I turned around. Looking over my shoulder I wiggled my little heart shaped ass and shimmied the thong up over my slender hips. I took a moment to admire my rear and felt a warm feeling between my legs thinking Charles might turn it as red as the heart covering my smooth slick pussy.

My long red hair was still wet and flowing just past the middle of my back. I thought about drying it, but enjoyed the sexy sensation of the cool moisture against my warm skin. Donning my short red silk robe that was perfect for the holiday, I left the bathroom and padded down the hallway towards the bedroom. I was so worked up my body was attuned to everything and even the soft carpet beneath my bare feet was a sensual thrill. 

On the way I stopped in the kitchen to grab two glasses the bottle of red wine I'd bought last night. I entered the bedroom pt the wine and glasses on the nightstand and opened the drawer to remove the lighter. I stared at the toys lined up inside and wondered which ones I might use later. The vibrator, the butt plug? Definitely at some point the bullet so I could come nice and hard on my long time lovers beautiful cock. I stared at the leash and collar neatly rolled up next to the eight inch strap on. No, not tonight, after all it was Valentine's Day and the least I could do was be nice. Well unless he acted up, but seeing it was a holiday I was sure he would behave.

I lit the candles on the nightstand then walked around the bed lighting the others on my bureau and the other nightstand. I looked around and smiled. The entire room was bathed in the soft glow of the flickering flames. It was cozy, but provided plenty of light for my man to get a great view of the show his wife was putting on. 

Placing the lighter on the nightstand, I glanced over at the closet door and saw it was partway open. I rolled my eyes, couldn't even follow simple instructions. With a sigh, I stepped towards the door, but then stopped when my gaze fell on the table under the window. I smiled at the huge bouquet of roses sitting there in an ornate red vase. Screw the door, the roses more than made up for such a small detail. 

Walking up to the bouquet I leaned over and breathed deeply, savoring the sweet scent. Picking up the small white card, I turned it over and read it out loud.

"For Debra, the woman I truly worship and adore, thank you for loving me so! Happy Valentine's Day!"

I smiled and gently put the card back.

"That is so sweet." I said softly.

"I guess something in this room has to be sweet."

I felt a thrill go through me and quickly turning saw Charles standing there grinning.

"Are you insinuating I'm not sweet?" 

"I'm not insinuating anything," his smile turned into that nasty smirk that after all this time still excited me, "I'm telling you you're not sweet. Sluts never are."

"Ohh, so I'm a slut am I?" I sighed, "Is that anyway to speak to a married woman?"

"Depends who she's married to." He laughed, "In my case I don't mind."

I looked him up and down and licked my lips. Charles worked construction and it had been hot as hell today. His grey sleeveless shirt was soaked through with sweat and his well tanned arms were glistening with it. The moisture helped define his impressive arms and letting my gaze wander down I felt my pussy begin to heat up at the sight of the large bulge in his tight jeans. 

He had taken his boots off before entering the carpeted room and the idea I could just yank his jeans down and off was an added bonus. My eyes returned to his crotch and I smiled when I saw it was noticeably bigger than it was before.

"See something you like, baby?" I asked.

"I know you do." He walked up to the side of the bed and stared across it. "How about you come over here and maybe I'll give you your gift."

"Ohh, I get something besides flowers?"

"You do. You get my dick shoved in your slutty mouth."

"Aww," I pushed my lips out into a pout and widening my blue eyes spoke in a little girl voice, "Just my mouth, that's all I get?"

"If you're good maybe I'll shove it in your sloppy cunt." He sighed, "Or maybe your ass; at least that's kind of tight."

"That is not very romantic." I shook my head.

He shrugged and smiled, this time a real one. His large expressive brown eyes were fixed on my long legs which the robe barely covered to upper thighs. He was sporting the bad boy five o' clock shadow and his thick black hair was sweat soaked and hanging just over his eyes. That look never failed to turn me into a puddle. Even his teeth were bright and perfect, a sharp contrast to the dark scruff and not for the first time over the years I considered myself a lucky woman. 

"You're not with me for romance."

"True." Looking at the clock, I said, "You're early."

"I got out early. After all I couldn't keep a hot wife waiting now could I?"

"I like that." I gave him a wink, "Pretty clever aren't you?"

"Not clever," he said looking me up and down, "But lucky as all hell, so do I get a gift?"

"You mean in addition to my loose cunt?"

"Hey, that's your game." He pointed out, "You like being..."

"That's right it is my game." I told him, "It's always my game. Isn't that right?"

"Whatever you say Debra."

"Good answer." Grabbing the tie to my robe I pulled it from its knot, but held the robe in place, "Good answers get rewards don't they?"

"Yes." He answered, his gaze locked onto my hands. 

"Well then happy Valentine's day, baby."

I let the robe fall from my shoulders and raising my arms above my head, did a slow spin for him, letting him take in my ass with just the thin strip of pink floss between my cheeks. When I turned back to him, the look of naked lust in his dark eyes caused my clit to begin to ache for release. 

"That...is one hell of a gift."

"Yeah? Not so bad after all these years?"

"Better and better." He said softly, and then pointing at the bed said, "Now come get what you know you need slut."

A shiver went through me as he instinctively knew I how I wanted it, then again he always did. I walked up to the opposite side of the bed and said, "How about you come over here?"

He looked confused "Why does it matter?"

I rolled my eyes, "Really? After all this time?"

"Oh." he smiled, "I get it."

"You're not going to if you don't get your ass over here."

Charles walked around the bed and my heart began to pound in anticipation when he stood in front of me. Placing his large calloused hands on my hips, he looked down at me, "Take your bra off."

"Hold on, baby." I placed my finger to his lips and shivered when he gave it a soft kiss. "How about a drink first?"

"Okay." He sighed, "If I must indulge your sweet side."

"Only for a minute, because trust me I am not in a sweet mood." I Picked up the two glasses of wine and handed him one, "But the roses do make me feel I owe my sweet husband a toast!"

We clicked our glasses. "To my sweet husband," I smiled "And lusty lover."

We downed the wine in several long swallows and taking his glass I placed them on the table. Before I had even turned back around he repeated.

"Now take your bra off and show me your tits."

"Show me your tits?" I mocked, "What are you twelve? I...ow!"

I yelped as Charles pinched my nipples through the bra. 

"I said take the fucking bra off, slut!" he demanded.

The pain in my nipples and the commanding tone of his voice sent a wave of heat through me. This is what I had waited for all day. 

"Please don't be so mean, Charles." I pouted "It's Valentine's Day! Be sweet to me!"

"Whore's don't get treated sweet, they get treated like the pigs they are!" he emphasized his point by reaching behind me and grabbing my wet hair, yanked my head back.

I moaned at the sharp pain in my scalp, then cried out in surprise and pleasure when grabbing my bra between the cups he yanked hard, ripping it in half. I looked down at my now exposed tits. My pink nipples were hard and already looked puffy from the pinch. 

"Is that how you show them to me?"

"No sir." 

Cupping my tits, I lifted them, presenting them while I looked up demurely through my eye lashes. 

"Play with them."

"Yes sir."

I began caressing my nipples with my thumbs and asked, "May I take your shirt off?"

"No, I'll do it." He smirked.

I thought about taking over and getting the pleasure of removing his shirt, but held back. He could be in charge; for now. Releasing my hair, Charles peeled his shirt off and my mouth began to water at the sight of his powerful chest and rock hard stomach. Tossing the shirt aside he placed took my nipples between his finger tips and I braced myself. Instead he began rolling them gently and I shuddered beneath his touch. 

My tits heaved in my hands as my breath quickened and I was beginning rock from side to side, squirming with desire as I had been at my desk during the day. 

"You like my tits, baby?"

"Little small, but they'll do." 

Even though he was trying to keep the game up I could feel his fingers trembling as he held back.

"Sorry they're so small. Maybe I'll take them away."

I made to pull back and cried out when this time the pinch ended in a hard twist. Releasing them he flicked his wrist and caught both my throbbing nipples with a sharp back handed slap. 

"You've got a lot of mouth for a filthy pig." He snarled at me, "I think it's time you used it for the only thing its good for."

Grabbing my shoulders he tried to force me to my knees, but keeping my legs straight, I fought him and gave him a thrill, by begging, "Oh please Charles! Please don't make me! I...I'll be a good wife from now on, I will."

"The hell you will!" he caught my hair again and pulling it back placed his face inches from mine. "You're not a good wife; you're a dirty fucking whore!"

Charles pushed my shoulder causing me to turn to the side and lose my balance. Still holding my hair, he yanked it downward sending me staggering to the other side. Sticking his leg out, he tripped me. As I fell he gave my hair another yank, and then let it go. With a cry of pain, I spun around and fell on my ass hard against the bed. I sat there with my eyes watering from the fiery pain in my scalp and my pussy dripping from the same.

Charles stepped up between my outstretched legs and I found myself staring at his bulging crotch. I reached for his zipper and yelped when he slapped my hand away. 

"You wait until I give it to you."

I whimpered and not all for his benefit. I'd been tasting that cock all day. I forced myself to be patient and go along with the game. After all, me being taken like a whore was hubby's favorite. Or was it mine? Who cared at this point? All that mattered was Charles fingers unsnapping his jeans and slowly pulling his zipper down. 

"Open my jeans."

I eagerly grabbed the sides of his pants and when I pulled them apart, smiled. He wasn't wearing underwear, God how I loved that look! I ran my fingers though his pubic hair and then slid my hand in to pull out my prize. I had just wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft when he slapped my arm away again. 

"Did I tell you to take it out?"

"But I want it!" I pouted.

Knowing I was playing into his game I reached for his jeans again and this time he caught both my wrists in his hands. Yanking my arms over my head, Charles gathered both my slender wrists in one large hand. He squeezed them tightly and I whimpered as they were pressed tightly together. 

He reached into his jeans and with teasing slowness withdrew his cock. Like the rest of him, Charles cock was nothing short of perfect. Long, thick and as always, hard for his favorite slut. The head was swollen purple telling me he'd been hard ever since he'd entered the room and probably before. There was precum oozing from the slit and I licked my lips already tasting it. 

Holding it at the base, Charles lowered his cock to my mouth and opening wide I darted forward, trying to catch it between my yearning lips. With a laugh he pulled it away and gave my wrists a tug causing me to moan at the pain in my shoulders. Letting his cock go, he gave each of my nipples a hard flick with his finger.

"Don't move." He said softly, his dark eyes gleaming, "Just open your mouth and wait for it."

Looking into his eyes, I opened wide and stuck my tongue out. Holding his cock just over my tongue he squeezed it. His pre cum dripped onto my tongue and I wanted nothing more than to swallow it, but remained still. 

"Go ahead." 

I gratefully obeyed him and swallowed, savoring the salty taste and the sensation of the thick sticky fluid sliding down my throat. 

"Again."

I offered my tongue once more and this time he began slapping his hard cock against it. I moaned in frustration as he teased me with what I'd craved all day. He shoved the head into my mouth and I managed to continue to play along and not take him between my lips and start sucking. 

"Good girl." 

Charles started thrusting his hips, sliding his cock across my tongue and into my wide open mouth. My body was trembling as I resisted the temptation and smiling down at me he pulled his cock from my mouth and whipped it across my face. 

"Like that, slut? Like that big dick in your face?"

"I do!" I whined then cried out as he slapped his thick cock into my cheek hard enough to hurt. "Oh, I want it!"

"You want this cock?" He asked continuing to assault my face with it by slapping one cheek then the other. "That makes you a fucking whore doesn't it?"

"I'm your whore," I breathed, then with a wink added, "Only your whore."

"Beg for it." He smirked.

Oh, he was starting to push his luck, but this game wasn't just for him and I kept playing along.

"Oh, please, Charles! Please let me have that big fucking cock! It's my favorite cock!"

"You fucking pig." He sighed, then with no hesitation released my hands grabbed my head and shoved his cock deep into my mouth. 

I'd been fully expecting him, but squealed for his benefit and widened my blue eyes. I only had half his length in my mouth, but still had to open wider to fit him. Charles gave me a couple of slow pumps and unable to help it moaned when I wrapped my lips tightly around him and pressed my soft tongue to the underside of his shaft. He grabbed two handfuls of my hair and wrapped them around his hands until I yelped in pain around his throbbing cock.

He withdrew until just the tip was in my mouth and sucking as hard as I could I was rewarded with both a nice squirt of his delicious precum and a cry of pleasure. I winked at him and he frowned, knowing I'd just scored a point for making him lose control. Oh, how I loved this game!"

Holding my head by my hair, he whispered, "You want it? Then take it!"

He plowed forward, burying his entire length in my mouth. I gagged around his hard flesh and felt spit drooling down my chin. My eyes were starting to water and putting my hands on his hips I pushed against him. I couldn't move him and as our eyes locked he smiled, "Lick my balls, slut."

I worked my tongue out and wiggled it across his sweaty balls. He began to breath heavy and I could feel his cock trembling in my mouth as he fought for the control I'd already shown. I whimpered for effect as I bathed his balls with my tongue and felt my thong sticking to my dripping pussy as I imagined how I looked. On the floor, pinned against the bed with a huge cock buried in my face, I felt like the slut he was treating me like and loved every minute of it.

Charles stared down at me and with a sidelong glance across the room. I blinked twice. With a nasty smile, he slipped his cock back out then began fucking my face hard and fast. Each time he drove himself forward I squealed as the tip of his cock struck the back of my throat and his balls slapped against my chin. Tears were flowing down my cheeks and the drool was spilling from my mouth and down onto my tits as he relentlessly face fucked me. 

"Look at you taking that cock you fucking pig!" he snarled while driving his cock into my mouth hard enough to cause me to gag around it. "Don't you dare make a fucking mess!" he warned me.

He stopped thrusting and started using my hair as handles, pushing my head back then yanking my face forward, impaling my mouth on his cock. I was sued to it now, but was still going out of my way to make gagging sounds as well as gurgling and make sloppy sucking sounds. I could feel my face getting red from struggling to breath and knew my make up was running down my face. I could feel the strings of saliva trailing down my chin and neck and knew Charles loved every minute of it and also knew he wasn't the only one!

He stopped pulling on my hair and began fucking my mouth again with long hard strokes. He was breathing hard and each time he plunged his hard flesh into my now sore throat he gasped. I knew him well enough to know he was getting close and catching his eye, I saw the question in his. If could have smiled, I would; even as he seemed to have me at his mercy he knew he needed permission. Nothing better than a well trained man who could not only put on a show, but know his place.




Thanks for the Roses!



I winked and began squealing louder. Charles began using short hard strokes, plundering my mouth faster and harder than before and as I gagged and my eyes bulged convincingly I slipped my hand between his legs and gave his swollen balls a gentle squeeze then began to massage them.

"Yeah, that's right you skank, you're going to take every fucking drop aren't you? Going to be a good little cum dumpster?"

He was forcing out the words and his balls were quivering in my hand. Parts of me were quivering as well knowing I was seconds away from taking a nice hot load down my eager throat. Maybe I would let it drool out or tip my head back and gargle it for a good show and...Even as my mouth was being pounded as if it were my pussy an idea struck me that was so hot my clit began to throb! 

"Yeah, get ready I'm going to blow a big fucking load in your...oh!"

He moaned, when slapping his thigh to signal for him to stop thrusting, I pulled his cock from my mouth. I slipped from my lips with a wet slurping sound and a large glob of spit hung from his swollen head. 

"Oh, don't stop!" he begged, losing control of the game, "I was so..."

"Oh stop your fucking whining." I snapped as I grabbed his cock and began pumping it hard and fast. "Just be lucky I let you go as far as you did."

"I...oh, Oh Debra please keep going! Yes!"

He cried out in pleasure and opening my mouth I guided his cock to it. He moaned when his cock erupted in my hand sending warm thick stream of cum into my waiting mouth to splash onto my waiting tongue. 

"Oh fuck yeah!" Charles gasped, trying to take over again. "Look at you jerking me off into your slutty mouth!"

My pussy and nipples were throbbing as I continued to pump his pulsing cock. Each stroke of my hand ended in my mouth receiving another shot of hot sticky fluid. I craved to tilt my head back and feel it oozing down my throat and then let it flow down my chin and onto my nipples. But instead I forced myself to let it puddle around my tongue. It would be worth it when I was done, oh so worth it! What a great gift this would be for my loving husband!

"Oh goddamn." Charles groaned as I twisted my hand wringing the last few drops from his cock.

I looked up at him and tilting my head back, made a show of gargling his copious load. He stared down at me, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. No doubt he was waiting for me to swallow, but instead I leaned over and grabbed my empty wine glass. Holding it under my mouth I opened wide and allowed the mouthful of cum to slowly pour into the glass. When I was finished I swirled my finger through it and put it in my mouth allowing myself one small taste.

Holding the glass up I nodded approvingly, "That's a lot of cum."

"I was thinking of that all day."

"Well I hope you were thinking of me cumming too because you have work to do."

Forcing myself into a standing position; I winced at the pain in my back and grimaced as I swallowed. Damn he had been pounding my throat. Placing the glass on the night stand I pointed at the floor. 

"Your turn, its time you..."

"Bullshit, I call the shots slut and....Fuck!"

Charles cried out in pain when I gave his semi hard cock a sharp slap. I gave it another then grabbing his balls, squeezed them firmly.

"You'll get on your knees and you'll suck my fucking pussy like I told you to, understand?"

"Yes Debra."

"I let you play long enough now you do what your told or I'll make you suck that load off of my feet."

Without another word Charles dropped down so fast he grunted when his knees hit the floor. He reached for my thing, but as he had done, I slapped his hands away. 

"Just sit and watch." I told him. 

Turning my back to him, I hooked my fingers through the thong and slid it down past my ass. Working my way down I shimmied out of the thong and bending over the bed waved my ass in his face, teasing him. Looking over my shoulder I saw him staring longingly at my pussy peering out at him from between my thighs, but his hands were in his lap. 

"Spread my ass." I told him.

Charles grabbed my ass and as I asked opened my cheeks wide. 

"Now tongue my ass."

He didn't care much for that and I gave him a few seconds before saying, "You want my clit you suck my ass."

He didn't respond, but a moment later I squealed delightedly at the feeling of his tongue probing my pink rosebud. 

"That's right, shove it in there. Eat my ass like the pig you are." I sighed as he swirled his tongue around several times before pushing his rigid tongue into my ass. "I was your pig now your mine. That's what makes us work, no baby?"

He grunted into my ass, but kept his tongue moving in slow circles.

"Tongue fuck me." I said sharply. "Nice and hard get a good taste of my ass."

I closed my eyes and moaned as he pushed his tongue in and out. I made him continue until my throbbing clit couldn't handle anymore. Standing up, I lay back on the bed and spreading my legs open, reached down and opening my pink pussy for him. 

"Make me cum." I placed my feet on his broad shoulders. "And fast. You can take your time later if you do a good job."

Charles didn't lick my pussy, he attacked it. Plunging two fingers into it he began roughly shoving them in and out. I was so wet I could hear his fingers plunging into my sopping cunt. As I'd demanded he wasn't teasing or playing. Fastening his lips to my clit, Charles began sucking hard enough for his lips to smack when he released it. I released a long low moan as my yearning clit was finally receiving some well-deserved attention. 

I let my head fall back onto the bed and grabbing my tender nipples began twisting them. I moaned softly at the divine mix of pain and pleasure flowing through my sensitive tits. Charles was slamming his fingers hard enough into me to hurt, but all that served to do was cause my pussy to gush around his long thick fingers. I lifted my hips in time with his thrusts, helping to drive him even deeper into me. 

I turned my head to the side and smiled at my reflection in the mirror over the bureau. Charles on his knees, his powerful form slicked with sweat and his face buried between my thighs. I pulled on my nipples watching in the mirror as my red nails worked my sore pink nubs. My face was flushed and my eyes glazed over with lust. It was a hell of a visual and another thrill went through me at how good of show this was. 

Charles began sucking my clit harder and faster and my hips matched his pace. I could already feel my orgasm building within me and began whimpering as each hard suck brought me that much closer.

"Fuck yeah." I moaned, "Suck my pussy! Get me all hot and wet for that big fucking cock!"

I gasped and arched my back off the bed. Pushing my feet hard against his shoulders, I strained to push my pussy as hard into him as I could. 

"Oh," I whimpered, "So close! Suck me faster, suck..."

My words turned into a sharp cry of surprise and pain when with no warning Charles roughly shoved a finger in my ass. At the same time he gave my clit a nip with his teeth and the additional pain sent me over the edge. 

I came like an animal, head back, mouth wide open and wailing like a banshee. Bucking my hips wildly, I gave my nipples a hard pinch and screamed again. Clamping my thighs tightly around Charles head, I ground my quivering pussy into his face. His fingers continued to work both my holes and I squealed in pleasure as my body contracted around them. 

I squeezed my nipples harder and released cry after cry of pure pleasure as I writhed on the bed helpless against the amazing orgasm having its way with my body. I lifted my hips and arched my back until I heard it crack. My body seemed to hesitate for a moment then with a scream that tore through my already sore throat and when my pussy contracted then released in convulsion of wet heat.

Charles flinched between my legs and I felt a warm sticky flood of fluid begin to drip down my thighs and flow through my pussy and around his fingers. I let my legs fall from his shoulders and knowing what was coming, Charles pulled his face away. My body spasmed again and a long stream sprayed from my quivering pussy to splatter his face and chest. 

With a pathetic sounding whimper my body relaxed and I slumped down onto the bed gasping for breath.

"Holy shit." I stared up at the ceiling which appeared to be spinning. "I came so fucking hard!"

Charles eased his fingers from my holes and I smiled at the wet sound when they left my dripping pussy. With a smile he wiped his fingers along his face and put them in his mouth. 

"Speaking of hard." I said, propping myself up on my elbows, "You better be ready to fuck me." Charles stood up to show me his big beautiful cock was almost as hard as it was before. He shoved his jeans down and as he kicked them off, I slid to the edge of the bed and sitting up took him in my hand.

"I think we can get him harder, don't you?"

Without waiting for his response I took him back into my mouth and now with the edge off took my time. I sucked him slowly down to the base of his shaft and shaking my head back and forth worked my mouth back up his delicious cock. I bobbed my head is a low steady rhythm enjoying every inch of him as well as knowing how good my mouth looked making the slow trip up and down his once again throbbing prick. After all, my hubby did deserve a good show. 

I glanced up to see Charles watching and took him deep once more letting him admire the view before releasing him. His gorgeous cock was standing at full attention and I smiled up at him.

"Hard again already," I sighed, "I'm a lucky woman. Some men can barely get it up once."

"Then they'd be a waste on woman like you."

"Yes they would. But not you. Now," lying back on the bed I lifted my legs and placed my feet on his shoulders. "How about you show me how a real man fucks a hot wife?"

"You're the boss," he grinned, stepping forward and sliding his cock teasingly through my wet lips.

"Good that you know that." I told him, "Now do what your boss told you too!"

I screamed the last word when he plunged his cock balls deep into my still oozing twat. He held it there for a moment and I sighed at the feeling of my pussy stretching to accommodate his thick pole. Charles groaned and when he grabbed my ankles I could feel his hands trembling and saw the muscles tense in his chest and shoulders as he prepared to give it to me just the way I needed it.

He withdrew his cock to the tip then slammed it back into me so hard I cried out even though I had been ready for it. This time Charles didn't linger he began fucking me as hard and fast as he could. I stared up at him yelping at every brutal thrust as he gave my pretty pussy the pounding it sorely needed. Charles grabbed my ankles and bringing my feet to his lips licked the bottom of each from heel to toe, before sucking each of them one by one.

I loved having my feet worshipped and moaned softly while watching his tongue work across my feet. He was fucking me hard enough for me to feel his balls slapping against me, but as good as it felt I wanted more.

"Harder, baby, harder!"

Putting my ankles together, Charles pulled up on them, lifting my ass effortlessly off the bed. That caused his cock to drive into me even deeper and I cried out in approval. Dropping me back onto the bed, he placed his arms behind my legs and leaning forward bent them back until my feet were over my face. He started plunging his cock straight down into my pussy and I began squealing in not just pleasure, but it was beginning to hurt as well. 

Charles knew it and he had an evil little smile on his face as he hammered away at my helpless pussy. His dark eyes were bright as he stared down at me and He squeezed my ankles hard enough to make me whimper. That spurred him on to fuck me even harder and I could feel my sticky juice splattering down my thighs. 

"Oh god you're fucking deep!" I cried, "God it's good to get fucked right!" 

"I haven't started yet." He said and whipping his cock out, grabbed my hips and with a wrench of his shoulders flipped me over onto my stomach. 

I had barely hit the bed when he dug his fingers hard enough into my hips to make me yelp and yanked my ass up and towards him. He pulled me to my knees and drove his cock into me in one long hard stroke. 

"You always know just how to fuck me don't you, baby?"

"Just how you taught me." He moaned behind me while plundering my pussy from behind.

His balls were now slapping my clit and I moaned each time it did. I looked to the side and admired the view of him standing there fucking me while I was on my hands and knees, my legs sticking over the bed. The sight of his naked well muscled body behind my slender form looked almost as good as his cock felt. I was yelping louder and louder and sliding my hand down between my legs began rubbing my clit. 

I whimpered at how worked up I was despite having just cum and started working my hard button in fast circles while Charles moaned and gasped behind me. He was breathing like a bull and his fingers were pressing harder into my soft hips. I knew he was getting close again and called out, "Just a little more, baby! I want to cum again! Fuck me until I cum!"

Charles started to slow down, but I cried, "No! faster, harder! You can't cum until I do!"

Charles moaned in frustration and once again began assaulting my now aching, but very happy pussy. A glance in the mirror told me he was getting closer than I was. His eyes were shut and there was a strained expression on his face as he fought to let me win the race. I pinched my nipple and twisted it, hoping the jolt of pain would send me over the edge, but it only brought me a little closer. 

"Oh," I moaned, "So close. " I knew either I would have to slow him down, or let him cum first, unless...I thought for a split second then smiled between my yelps. Why not? It was Valentine 's Day and what better way to say Happy Valentines than...

"Fuck my ass!"

"F...fuck your?"

"You fucking deaf? I said fuck my ass, make me cum with your fucking cock in my tight little ass!"

Charles face lit up like a kid on Christmas and withdrawing from my pussy, he pressed his dripping cockhead against my rosebud. He slowly pushed the head into me and I winced at the pain of his large purple head opening my ass. I hadn't let him have it in months and moaned as he eased into me. My fingers had slowed on my clit and taking a deep breath, I turned him loose.

"Don't tease me, fuck me! Make me squeal like the pig I am!"

I started to say something else, but what came out was a long loud high pitched wail as he shoved the full length of his cock inside my ass. I screamed in pain laced pleasure at the exquisite fiery pain as his cock forced my ass wide to take his thick cock. He began fucking me slowly and I squealed, "Take it, take my ass show me how a man takes his woman!"

He paused then began tearing into my ass as hard as he had my pussy. My mouth was wide open and I was emitting a continuous high pitched squeal as he sodomized me. My fingers danced across my clit and I felt the orgasm already racing through my body. 

"Harder! Harder!" I urged him on in a high pitched voice.

Charles grabbed my hair and yanked my head back hard enough to cause a wave of pain through my scalp. As he drove his cock to the hilt in my ass I released an animal like howl and went off like a rocket. My ass contracted so tightly around his cock I heard him gasp. But he continued fucking me even as my ass fought to keep him inside. His slamming back in hurt more with my muscles convulsing and I howled again and again as my pain and pleasure wracked body bucked wildly. He grabbed both my shoulders to hold me still and I screamed his name repeatedly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through me. 

Charles was beginning to whimper like a child as he still fought not to cum. As the fading orgasm caused my ass twitched around his cock once more, I moaned, "Go ahead, cum for me, baby, but not in my ass!"

I squealed as loud as my now raw throat would let me when Charles pushed me flat on the bed and gave my ass several savage pumps that caused me to bounce up and down on the bed beneath him. With a low sound that was close to a growl, Charles pulled his cock from my ass and as I asked squeezed the base in his fist, holding it back.

Forcing myself to move, I rolled over onto my back and grabbing the glass from the night stand held it in front of him, "Spill a drop and you'll lick it up." I told him; "I have plans for a very special toast."

Charles released his cock and I watched a stream of cum splash against the side of the glass and ooze down to join the white contents of his previous load. I admired the muscles in his forearm and how good his large had looked on his thick cock as he jacked it off into the glass. Despite it being his second load his large heavy balls had manufactured another impressive amount of cum and I smiled at the amount now in the glass. 

He wrung the last few drops onto the side of the glass and as it slid down. I decided to give him a thrill and bringing it to my lips titled it and took a tiny sip. I lifted my head to show him his cum smeared across my lips. I licked my lips and made a show of playing with it; sliding it around my lips before slurping it into my mouth and swallowing it.

"Damn." He sighed as he sat heavily on the edge of the bed. 

I swung my legs off the bed to sit next to him and holding the cup in my lap said, "Wow, sweet roses and one hell of a nasty fuck. Who says you can't have the best of both worlds?" 

"Most married women." He laughed.

"I'm not most married women, baby."

"No, Debra, you're not." 

He gave me a rare sweet smile and leaning over gave me a soft kiss. "Happy Valentine's Day."

I returned the kiss and giggled like a school girl, "Aww, how sweet!"

"Once in awhile." He snapped his fingers, "Seeing we started right off I didn't tell you about your present."

"I got it." I lifted my ass off the bed and winced as I rubbed it. "It was delivered in the rear."

He laughed, "No, a real one. I know someone at Blue Grotto and got us reservations for eight."

"Are you kidding?" My eyes widened, "On Valentine's day?"

"They owed me money I told them get me in and call it even." He grinned "I brought a change of clothes so I figure I'll hop in the shower and you can get dressed up nice and we'll head out." He frowned, "Oh, that is if you wasn't doing anything with..."

"No worries." I waved my hand. "I'm all yours!"

"Great." He stood up and offered his hand, "Looks like you could use another shower."

"You go ahead and I'll catch up in a couple of minutes."

"I can wait if..."

"I need a couple of minutes." I winked, "You know."

"Damn." He laughed, "You know it's amazing what you can get used to. I swear I forget about him sometimes."

"Trust me, I do to." I said with a nasty smile. But it is a holiday so go on ahead."

"Okay." He gave me a kiss on the cheek and as he walked around the bed waved towards the nightstand, "Nice roses."

Sitting there on the bed I sighed contentedly. My nipples were aching, my ass was burning and my pussy was moist and satisfied. Exactly what I had looked forward to all day. Staring down at the glass, I called out, "You can come out now."

I looked up at the familiar creak of the closet door as it swung all the way open. Billy came crawling out on his hands and knees and as he had been taught, remained there staring down at the floor.

"You can come here." 

Lifting his head he crawled across the floor towards me and I shook my head at his naked body. Skinny, already balding and worst of all; that small little dick-I couldn't bring myself to call it a cock, pointing down at the floor. When he crawled up between my legs, he lowered his head and kissed the top of each of my feet. 




Thanks for the Roses!



"So, Billy did you like that? You like watching Charles fuck me like a real man."

"I...I like seeing you happy my love." He replied; his head still down.

"Sit up and look at me."

He obediently sat back on his knees and looked up at me his hands on his scrawny thighs. I stared down at him and letting my gaze fall on his small twitching dick, sighed, "I really don't know what I was thinking. Oh, that's right; you make a lot of money!"

"To take care of you my love."

"Good answer." I nodded. "But you didn't answer my first question; you like watching Charles fuck me?"

"Yes my love."

"Why is that?"

"Because you need a real man and I can't satisfy you."

"Not with that sorry little thing. But you make up for it by letting me have my fun." I reached out and took his chin in my hand. "But tell me, besides that I like it, you like him fucking me?"

"Y...yes."

"I know you do. You love watching me be taken don't you? Wishing it was your pathetic little dick in my mouth." I giggled, "The last time I tried to be nice and blow you I think you were cumming before you got in my mouth. Hmm, that was what two three years ago? Well, you can't say I never try."

"You did and I...I failed you."

"As usual. Charles really gave it to me good tonight didn't he? Made me scream and cum twice for him. Took all your wife's holes just the way I need it."

"He always takes care of you." Billy said softly, his watery blue eyes fixed on my pussy.

"He does." I agreed. "He's been fucking me for years. Long before I met you and I'm glad you knew better than to try to make me give him up."

"I know you need more than I can give."

"That's because I need something for Christ's sake. After him I doubt that little thing could tickle my pussy."

'Sorry my love."

"Don't be. I'd rather have him anyway." I smiled down at him, "So Billy, were you playing with your little dick while you watched?"

"Y...yes." He said nervously.

"You get hard? Well. As hard as you can get?"

"Yes my love I...I like watching you satisfied."

"You didn't come did you?"

"No!" he shook his head vigorously. "You tell me not to."

"That's right." I gave him a nasty smirk, "And what happened the last time you came without my permission?"

Lowering his eyes he whispered, "I got the strap on."

"Yes you did because you were bad." I let him think about it for a minute until I saw his eyes glance nervously at the drawer where I kept my toys.

"But tonight you were a good boy!" I told him, smiling. "Those roses are beautiful!"

"I...I'm glad you like them" he said warily, waiting for me to turn something around on him.

"I do! It was very sweet, especially the card! You do worship me don't you?"

"I do, my love!"

"You did last week when I let you lick my pussy didn't you?"

"Yes." He tried to keep his expression neutral.

"I know, I suppose I could have told you Charles had just cum inside me, but hey, I forget things like that."

"I...understand."

"Well you should have known, I mean it's not like you could ever get me to cum. But let's forget that. It's Valentine's Day, you gave me a very sweet gift, let me fuck my boyfriend and so I think I should give you a nice reward!"

"A reward?"

"Yes and don't be nervous Billy! I promise it will be a god one. Now stand up."

He did as I asked and I worked hard to keep the smile on my face as I stared at his semi hard dick in front of my face. 

"Stroke it for me." I told him. "Get nice and, well do what you can," I giggled.

Billy took his cock in his hand and I wanted to roll my eyes at how it disappeared in his hand. He started pumping it and to give him some inspiration I started rubbing my pussy. He stared at my red nails teasing though my moist pink flesh and within seconds he was hard. 

"Hmm, hard to believe you and Charles are the same species. Do you want to come, Billy?"

"If...if you think I should."

"I do and know what?" I reached down and tapped his hand. "Let it go. I think I'll do it for you."

"You...you'll make me come?" he asked his eyes wide with excitement.

"Yes because I think even you deserve some fun tonight."

I wrapped my thumb and forefinger around his skinny dick and started jerking him off with two fingers. 

"Oh, thank you, my love." He moaned idiotically.

I watched my fingers glide easily up and down his dick recalling how my hand barely fit around Charles. Right now that cock was soapy and waiting for me in a nice hot shower and here I was playing with this little boy dick. Billy was already trembling and breathing hard and I swore It had only been thirty seconds. Then again it had been awhile and it's not like it really mattered that was what Charles was for. 

'You going to come for me, baby?" I purred, "Going to shoot a nice hot load for your loving wife?"

"Oh, oh yes." He whimpered, "It feels so good Debra! Please....please I...oh!"

Billy released another moronic sound of pleasure and I felt his dick twitch between my fingers. Pointing it downward I placed the tip at the edge of the glass and as he continued to sound like a reject from a bad porn movie I milked his skinny prick into the glass. He shot several thin squirts of cum into the sticky white mess already there and I had to admit it was a pretty impressive amount for him.

"Oh, that's a nice big load!" I cooed, "You came nice and hard for me didn't you?"

"Yes my love," He moaned as I gave his dick a hard squeeze causing a couple of more drops to spill out.

"Good boy." Kissing my fingertips I placed them on the sticky head of his dick.

"Now get back on your knees for another treat."

I opened my legs for him and he quickly dropped down on his knees.

"Would you like something sweet for Valentine's Day?"

"Yes, my love!"

"Good, because I have something sticky and sweet for you." I began. "Because I feel bad that you missed my toast earlier."

Grabbing his chin roughly I tilted his head back and held the glass over his face. "Open wide!"

"D...Debra please." He tried to shake his head.

"Are you refusing me after I just gave you a nice reward?" I asked incredulously, "Don't make me put you on the leash and walk you around the back yard again."

"My..."

"Don't my love me." I told him staring coldly into his eyes. "I was nice enough to jack off that sorry excuse for a dick and now I want you to do one thing for me and you say no? Maybe I'm not your love." 

Billy stared at me for several seconds as if he thought this could end any other way and cocking my head I smiled, "Really Billy?"

Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth.

"That's my good boy! Bottom's up!" Tipping the glass I watched the thick mass of cum slide out of it and into his mouth.

I put the glass against his lip and tipped it upside down, making sure he got every drop.. Billy made gurgling sound and I pushed the glass against his chin.

"Close your mouth and swallow."

He closed his mouth and when he didn't immediately swallow I pinched his nose shut. "Be a good boy, Billy."

Billy swallowed and as he grimaced with disgust, I stood up and tossed the glass onto the bed.

"There you go, not so bad. Hell it's not the first time you've had Charles cum." I giggled "One time I even jerked him off in your mouth remember that one?"

"I do my love."

"Good that you do, that way you know to behave. Now I'm going to go shower with Charles and then I'm going out. Be a good boy and change the sheets and clean up the room."

"Yes my love."

I turned away and walking past him towards the door said over my shoulder, "I'll be back late, but I'll bring you a doggy bag, okay?"

"Thank you my love."

I stopped and turned back to him. "Oh, and Billy?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for the roses!" 

Author's Note: I hope you liked my twisted Valentine's tale and remember this is a contest story so please take the time to vote. As for the story itself, the end seems to come out of nowhere-if I did it right-but if you give a quick second read you can find the hints. As always thank you for reading and I hope everyone has a much happier Valentine's Day than Billy! LC68 



Thanks for the Show



"Oh fuck yes baby fuck me! Fuck my tight pussy!" I screamed as my boyfriend Jeff drove his cock into my pussy over and over.

"Damn Sally, its like your pussy gets tighter and tighter every time we fuck!"

I could only moan a response. Truth was he was right. I was 26, 125 lbs, and in my prime, and I wanted to stay that way. Having a 28 year old boyfriend who's hornier than I am makes it hard, so I take extra measures. I do kegels every day, yoga every week, and take baths with vinegar often (yes it works, and no it doesn't leave a smell) to keep my pussy as tight as possible. Jeff was always commenting on my body, whether it was my 5'6" frame, my blonde hair with brown highlights, my blue eyes, 36b tits, or plump ass, he always had something good to say about it, so I know the hard work was worth it. Jeff's cock slamming back into me snapped me from my thoughts long enough to know that I had my legs behind my head for too long, and I was starting to cramp up, not to mention get a slight rugburn. I pulled my legs free and sort of kick pushed him so he fell on the bed sideways. He grinned as I stood up and did a little sexy dance for him, which was really me just stretching my legs, but hey, he didn't know that. His body was glowing in the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand, shining directly on the lower half of his body, and at that moment the most important half. I crawled my way up the bed and right over him, took his cock, and slid it back into me.

"Oh yes baby that's it, now its my turn to have some fun," I grinned.

I started off slow and built up to a rhythm I knew we both could appreciate. I wasn't going wild and crazy on him but I was bouncing off him pretty fast, and every time I would come down a little vibration would shoot through my body that made me tingle all over, which made for a better ride for both of us. He grabbed the side of my hips and helped me slide down his wonderful 7 inch cock that filled me up completely, that stretched me so wide, and made me cum on several occasions. I was lost in lust and pinched my nipples which added to the already immense pleasure I was feeling.

"You liking this cock baby?"

"I'm loving this cock baby! God I never get tired of you stuffing my pussy!"

"Well its a good thing you do, because I'm gonna be in it a whole fucking lot babe!"

Hearing him talk about fucking me while actually fucking me made me hotter for some reason, and I felt the need to grind my pussy on him, so he could "accidentally" brush my clit over and over as much as I wanted him to. I flicked at his nipples with my fingers, causing him to thrust up into me in a hurry, giving me those nice little vibrations I love so much. I had to grab the headboard to keep it from banging the wall. I was riding him just as good as I wanted to when out of nowhere I saw a brief flash out of the corner of my right eye. I jerked my head looking over at the three windows to the right of me, but I didn't see anything, so I shrugged it off and went back to fucking Jeff.

"What you looking at over there baby?" Jeff asked.

"Nothing, I thought I saw something, guess not. Why? See something you like?"

"Fuck yeah, but once you get on all fours I'll see something I love!"

I giggled as I got off of him and got on all fours facing the windows. I loved the anticipation of waiting for his cock to plunge into me in this position, so I never look back until he shoves it into me. In one fast motion I felt his hands on my hips and his cock being shoved back into me, and I groaned and lowered my head as the overwhelming sensation came over my little body.

"Mmmmmmmmm fuck Jeff, fuck my tight pussy till it cums all over you!"

He wasted no time pulling me back into him as his cock lurched forward into my hungry pussy. He was really giving it to me good, fucking my pussy hard and deep, and I was loving it. I flipped my long hair back and began to meet him thrust for thrust as the sound of our clapping skin filled the room. I gripped the sheets in my hand and groaned when I felt his hand slide over my cock filled pussy and attach itself to my clit, fuck it felt so good.

"Fuck me Jeff, fuck me! Make me cum all over your cock baby! Make me fucking cum!"

He grunted and squeezed my clit as he fucked me, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut as I focused on the pleasure my pussy was getting. It was getting so intense every time I tried to open my eyes they would close back on their own, and my lip would bite itself, so I just went with it. I was in heaven, I was getting fucked good and hard and could tell I was gonna have a good orgasm, but I wanted to drag it out as long as possible, that way it would feel even better when I did cum. I was moaning and just totally lost in the moment when through the crack of my eyes I could swear I saw another flash. I wasn't completely sure but I felt like I saw something, like a tiny light slide into my vision. It might have been my brain registering an orgasm because I didn't even have time to debate it, I had reached my boiling point and was convulsing from the force of Jeff's cock deep in my pussy and his fingers wrapped tightly around my clit. It hit me the way I like to be fucked, hard and fast.

"Fuck fuck fuck Jeff! I'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming! Oh my fucking god!"

In an instant my body had become a human vibrator as I came. My body took on a mind of its own as my pussy pulsed around a cock that kept fucking me through my orgasm, and after as my arms gave out, leaving my ass poking up in the air. As I rode out the last little bit of my orgasm in bliss, I heard Jeff start to grunt and his strokes into me became more urgent.

"Oh shit Sally I'm gonna cum! Turn over," he gritted as he pulled out of me.

I used my little bit of strength and turned over on my back as he grunted and jacked his hot sperm onto my chest. I was never one for swallowing cum, but I loved it on my chest, tits, and face. When he had no more to give he fell down next to me and caught his breath as I rubbed his cum into my skin.

"Wow babe, whatever you're doing to keep your pussy so tight, keep doing it," he grinned.

"As long as you keep fucking me like that baby it'll be as tight as you want."

I climbed over him and kissed him for a while before he caught a look at the alarm clock. "Oh shit babe I lost track of time! I have to go, I have a big presentation tomorrow."

I sighed. "Ok, but you have to make it up to me, you don't stay over like you used to."

"I know. The hours they give me are crazy and its easier to leave from my house. I have to go, but I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said as he finished dressing, kissed me, and left out the door.

I got up, glanced out the middle window in my apartment room, then turned on the tv. I thought it was on when we were fucking, maybe we hit the remote or something. "That must have been the flash I saw, no one saw us. What else could it have been?" I asked myself. I put it out of my head and went to take a shower, then sat down with my favorite ice cream, cookies and cream, and watched a couple movies. Halfway through the second I felt too tired and full from the ice cream, so I called it a night and went to sleep early, still buzzing from the great sex.

The next day at work was pretty normal, except for a small situation that reminded me of the day before. A co-worker told me someone had been cutting corners to print ads faster (I'm in advertising) and our boss found out. She told me he said he would be keeping an eye on us. That last statement had me thinking again that maybe someone was watching Jeff and I have sex, I mean yeah I live on the 16 th floor and it was a little dark outside, but the curtains were open and they do have all those gadgets where you can zoom in and set it to night mode and stuff. Then again maybe I was reading too much into it. Who would go through that much trouble just to get a free show? I convinced myself I was right and went about the rest of my work day normal as can be and incident free.

I got home, checked my messages and sat a minute, tired from walking in heels all day and warmed up some leftover chinese food from yesterday. I went into my room and opened my curtains (I only close them when I'm gone or sleep) and sat down to a rerun of Sex and the City as I thought about how Jeff was going to make up leaving me last night. I finished eating and was finally relaxed, but I still had about half an hour before Jeff got off work, so I decided to pass the time by channel surfing. I called the few people who had left me messages back and told them I was spending the day with Jeff, and just as I hung up from the last call, I flicked to one of those sex channels you have to order to get. I thought the satellite company screwed up and gave me them for free, but then it became obvious, Jeff. Men and their porn. I figured what the heck and left it on the channel, just as the man penetrated the fake-titted blonde. He was pounding her hard and squeezing her silicone breasts so hard they could have burst inside her, but I have to admit, I was getting really turned on. I shed my work blouse and skirt and slipped my hand inside my panties and fingered myself to the rhythm the girl on tv was getting fucked. It felt good, but not as good as a live cock would feel stretching out my pussy. I grabbed my cell phone off the night stand and dialed Jeff's number one handed as I kept fingering myself with the other.

"Hello?"

"Hey honey, when are you getting off? I'm feeling horny and I need you right now."

"I'm really sorry baby, but I gotta work late tonight. My boss just came in with some new figures and I have to pull an all nighter. Nobody gets to leave until its done."

"What? You promised you'd make it up to me! What am I supposed to do now?"

"Don't you still have, you know, accessories? I'm sorry, but I'm stuck here. He said we wont have to stay late tomorrow, I promise, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You damn right you will! I'm really horny and you're not here to help me me. I guess I can take care of myself tonight, but you better be here tomorrow, or there will be hell to pay!"

"I will baby, I promise. I have to go, I'll talk to you later when I get off work tomorrow bye..."

"Bye hon..." It was too late, he had already hung up.

I went to my drawer and pulled out my trusty (but unwelcomed) 7" dildo I haven't used in over nine months, courtesy of having the real thing. Pleasuring myself had almost been a thing of the past, but thanks to Jeff and his job, it was the only option tonight, and I'd have to tough it out.

I cut off the lights so I just had the glow of the tv and ran the dildo over my pussy. It nudged against my clit and caused me to shiver, instantly cupping my breast and squeezing it. By now the woman is on top of him riding him with her big breasts bouncing in his face, and hes thrusting his huge cock into her. I slowly slide my panties down my legs and run the dildo over my pussy, teasing myself as I watched the on screen action play out. I could feel my pussy throbbing with anticipation waiting to be filled, so I ended the torture and put the dildo at my lips and pushed it in. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of pleasure as I pushed it in me all the way up to the fake balls. I bit my lip on instinct as I pulled it out to the head and slid it back in faster and faster. I closed my eyes and concentrated on pumping myself and the woman on tv screaming every curse word as the guy now fucked her ass. I scooted the bra down my chest and pinched my nipple as I thrust the dildo in my pussy at full speed. My eyes shot open when I grazed my clit and caused me to jerk the dildo out of me. As I sat up to get it I saw a quick flash jump across my eyes. Thoughts of being watched again entered my head, but under the circumstances I wasn't gonna think about it too much. It stunned me for a second, but not enough to deter me from an orgasm. I blamed it on the tv and quickly shoved the dildo back into my waiting pussy. It didn't take me long to work myself back into a frenzy, stabbing my pussy over and over.

"Oh fuck. Jeff you idiot, you could be fucking this pussy right now," I moaned.

The man on tv did the all dramatic cumshot on the woman's face, and she scooped it off with her fingers and sucked them clean. I don't really like to swallow personally, but seeing her do it made me really hot. I let my tit go and slid my hand down my body until it was right over my clit and rubbed it furiously while I pumped myself full of fake cock. I looked down at my pussy as I assaulted and abused it to my satisfaction. My right hand was going up and down with the dildo and my left was choking my clit with its fingers. I was building to a really good self induced orgasm and was fucking myself for all I was worth, moaning to no one as I frigged myself silly. My orgasm was fast approaching when it happened again, a quick flash of light caught my eyes. This time there was no denying it, someone was watching me! I couldn't blame it on the tv because it was on the black screen with the credits rolling, so I knew it was someone outside. There are three windows on the wall directly across from the one my bed was on with the tv next to the middle, and the middle one had the best view, but they all could show a great view of my bed from outside the windows. It may have been the fact that I was horny as hell, but the idea of being watched didn't put me off at all, it excited me. I began fucking myself even faster than before and pinched the holy hell out of my clit, breathing heavier and heavier with each thrust in my pussy and squeeze of my clit.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god, fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum," I gasped to no one at all.

The pressure in my pussy built and built until I felt the walls of my pussy shut tight against the dildo and I came, hard. I closed my eyes and let it run through me as I came; legs shaking, arms twitching, unable to speak. I was hit with what was the greatest orgasm I've ever given myself, but deep down I knew I couldn't take all the credit. I left the dildo in my pussy and fell back on the bed and lay there. I just orgasmed big time to possibly a live audience, but definitely at least one person, but to my surprise I wasn't mad or ticked off at all, it made me horny again! The thought of being watched as I fucked myself sent chills up my spine that usually only happened when something really turned me on. I came so good to the thought of being watched that I just have to do it again, but this time I want a real cock, not a cheap imitation. Tomorrow, I'll make sure Jeff fucks the living hell out of me, and I want whoever saw me to be watching me as it happens, you want a show, I'll give you a show.

The whole way to and at work I was thinking of my little peeping tom. I sat at my desk trying to figure out who it could be. That was the best solo cum I've ever had and I don't know who to thank for helping me with it. I never thought something so little as being watched could make me so sex crazed and horny. If I'd worn stockings like I was going to I'm sure they would be sticking to my legs from my pussy leaking through my panties. I wondered who it could be. Is it someone I know, really close with? Somebody I met somewhere, took an interest in me? Is it a complete stranger? Is it someone who just happened to be looking out their window at the moment I was having sex and caught a free show and wanted the picture instead of the thousand words? I had no idea who it could be, but the mystery made it all the more exciting. Since there are other buildings around this one, I thought they could be watching me right now through the big window behind me and the other workers in my row, or maybe its a co-worker! Maybe someone in here was watching me right now, but keeping it under wraps so I wouldn't suspect anything. I have to admit if it was one of my co-workers that would be fantastic, I could tease them without them knowing I knew who it was and still keep the fantasy going. The thought of this made me run my hand into my already wet panties and play with my pussy, I had to chew on my pen to keep from making any noise just in case someone really was watching me. You can't see under the desk, but it wouldn't be hard to imagine what was happening. I managed to work myself into a tiny, tiny orgasm before I decided to call it quits in case someone who didn't wanna see that caught view of it. My new love of voyeurism turned me on so much, but it wasn't worth losing my job over, so I licked my fingers clean and reluctantly went back to work.

Surprisingly the day went by faster than I thought it would, probably because my thoughts got sidetracked when our boss called everyone in for a surprise pitch meeting that took up the rest of the workday, but when I clocked out and left, my thoughts went back where they needed to be. When I was almost home Jeff called to say he was leaving work early and was on his way to my apartment and was gonna make up for bailing on me yesterday with some great sex, I kept it short and told him it better be great and hung up as I pulled into the parking lot and shot upstairs to my apartment.

I took a quick shower, put on some baby oil, (I know, but it makes my skin so soft) and threw on my silk black baby doll nightie. I opened my curtains and stood in front of each window, smiling out and playing with the little bow on my nightie hoping whoever was watching me was home today. With the three apartment complex's out there and all of them having the curtains closed as far as I could see, I couldn't tell which one my "onlooker" was looking from, and it was just starting to get dark so I knew I would need some light in the room. While I waited for Jeff to show I sort of set the scene a little; I moved the chair slightly in front of the window to the far right and scooted the tv back on the wall in the space between the windows. The left window was pretty clear so I left that as is. Just as I turned on the lamplight and declared the room "peep ready", I heard a knock at the door. I didn't waste any time and made my way to the door, opening it to see Jeff standing there with flowers and chocolates.

"Hey baby, I'm sorry I didn't..."

"We can talk later, just get in here NOW!"

I yanked him in and started removing his clothes frantically as I kissed him and made my way back to my bedroom. By the time we got there he was only wearing black socks and boxers, I got rid of those ridiculous black socks first then slid off his boxers and pushed him down on the bed, in perfect view of all three windows. I dropped my nightie on the floor at my feet and stepped out of it as I crawled between his legs, grabbed his cock, and slowly slid it into my mouth.

"Oh shit Sally, suck it just like that!"

I mumbled around his cock and kept sucking. I was really getting into it, not to say I usually don't, but under the circumstances I felt like I couldn't get enough of his cock. I took it farther in my mouth than I ever have before, just an inch above having the whole thing in my throat, and rolled his balls around in my hand as I sucked him over and over. He put both his hands on my head and tried to force the rest in my mouth, but I squeezed his balls enough to let him know that wasn't happening, and he just let them rest there as a guide. As I sucked him off I began to think that since I didn't see a flash or anything, that maybe he wasn't in or he wasn't watching, and I started to get a little disappointed, then just before I closed my eyes again I saw a brief flash out of the corner of my eye. I was relieved and got 1000 times hornier at the same time knowing I was gonna be watched again, and that this time I was aware that I would be watched. I was gonna give him something to remember that night, I saw sure of it.

I swung my leg over him and pushed my pussy into his face, and he immediately started eating me out like I knew he would. The feeling of his tongue running over every wet surface of my pussy was driving me crazy, I wasn't even sucking his cock anymore, I was just holding it in my hand as he ate me out. I gathered myself enough to suck on the tip and jack him off as he continued to thrust that wonderful tongue in my pussy. I moaned into the air when he sucked my exposed clit between his lips and thrust his fingers inside me. I couldn't take it anymore, I sucked the tip of his cock one more time and crawled from over him and got on my hands and knees next to him on the bed.




Thanks for the Show



"Gimme that cock baby, I need it really hard right now! Come on and fuck me!"

I heard him getting up on his knees behind me. I loved this moment with a passion, waiting for his cock to enter me at any moment with me not knowing when it was gonna happen was as big a rush as I've ever felt, well, maybe second biggest now. He massaged my ass, teasing me since he knew I loved this moment and kept his hands at my hips, his cock not touching me the whole time. The anticipation was killing me, but arousing me even more. I looked over at the windows and winked just as I felt his cock push at my lips then slip all the way inside with one full push.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh," I moaned as I closed my eyes in sheer pleasure. "Fuck me baby, fuck that pussy hard. I've been a bad girl and I need to be punished!"

He pulled me back on his cock and started fucking me just how I asked him to, hard. I felt my ass clapping against him and tried my best to match his movements, but he was fucking me entirely too fast, so I just let him do all the work while I screamed and moaned.

"You like that dick baby? You like the way I'm fucking you?"

"Yes I fucking love it! Oh god you're fucking me so good baby don't stop," I yelled.

I felt his hands leave my hips, but he kept fucking me so I didn't say anything. He grabbed my hair with both hands and held it together and pulled it, making me arch my back in the process so my tits were poking outwards now as he fucked me. I looked out the windows to see if I could spot anything, but the light reflected and all I could see was a reflection of me getting fucked. I made a note to myself to turn on more lights and get by the window and cringed in pleasure as Jeff's hand found its way to my clit. My eyes were fighting with themselves to stay open and look out the window, but with me getting pounded and my clit being rubbed so hard it was impossible, so I made a move myself.

"Fuck, Jeff baby, get in the chair, I wanna ride you, I wanna ride that cock!"

He let my hair go and on instinct my body fell into the mattress. He smacked me on the ass and went to sit in the chair that I had placed there on purpose as I went to cut on the main lights in the room and made my way back to him. I stood over him, my titties pointed straight at him and climbed on him. I kissed him and grabbed his cock at the same time and sat down fully on it. We both moaned into each others mouths and I quickly started rising up and down on his cock. It didn't take me long to get into it as I bounced up and down on him so hard I thought the chair would break. He sucked one of my titties in his mouth and helped to lift me up and down on him, really slamming me down, and brushing my clit at the same time. I felt like a crazy woman the way I was riding him, my tit was forced from his lips as they bounced on my chest from me riding the hell out of him. I was screaming loudly and running my hands through my hair as his cock pierced my pussy time after pleasurable time. I must have looked like a woman possessed to whoever was watching me. Finally I had calmed down enough and gripped my arms around his neck with my head next to his and sat there on him.

"My pussy feel good baby? Wrapped tight around that nice big cock," I whispered in his ear.

"Oh baby you have no idea, this is the best pussy I've ever had, by far."

"Good answer," I said back, and started rocking on him.

I started kissing his neck as I worked my pussy back and forth, up and down, and in circles on his cock, it felt incredible. I looked out the window since I could see better from being so close to it and could see the buildings had some windows with curtains slightly opened, but I couldn't see anything beyond that. I didn't see a flash at all since the first one and I wondered if my peeping tom was there, watching me as I impaled myself on my boyfriends cock. I grinned out the window just in case he was there and started fucking him harder again. Before I could get my rhythm back Jeff locked his arms around me and carried me around the far side of the bed, lay me down, and started fucking me missionary.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Sally but I fucking love it!" Jeff said.

"Leftover hormones from not being fucked yesterday," I moaned back as his cock filled me.

"Maybe I should skip a day more often then."

"I wouldn't try it if I were you, now shut up and fuck me!"

I must have hit a soft spot because he grabbed my hands and threw them over my head and just pounded me in the worst way, and I loved every second of it. He was fucking me so fast my legs were bouncing around so I had to lock them around him. The smell of our sex was still strongly shrouded in the room as I looked into his eyes and begged, pleaded with him to fuck me harder. It didn't take him long to comply and within seconds the back of my head was stuck to the mattress in bliss. I looked behind me at the windows from my upside down position and still saw no flash, I was beginning to think that maybe Jeff and I were on our own today. It was a shame because I was really putting on a good show, and Jeff was really doing his part by fucking the living hell out of me, I honestly don't remember the last time I was this horny and got fucked this good for this long. I lay there and let him ravage me until I came up with something that was sure to catch his attention if he was there, or anyone else who happened to be looking out their window at the moment, something he would definitely want a picture of. I grabbed his ass and stopped him from fucking me by holding his body against mine, and slowly rolled him off of me. He looked confused as I stood up and walked over to the middle window, pushed my top half up against it and stuck my lower half out at him.

"Well don't just sit there with your cock in your hand, get over here and fuck me!"

I grinned widely as he walked over to me, jacking his cock off as he made his way over. He forced me against the window, smashing my tits against it, lifted my leg up and pushed his cock back into me. The only leverage I had was to push off the glass and groan loudly, but with hid body being so close to mine, I never got off the glass.

"Oh fuck baby, people could be watching us fuck right now," I cooed.

"Let em watch, its as close as they're gonna get to this pussy!"

Him saying that turned me on so much knowing that somebody was actually getting a good close up of me via camera. He drove his cock into me balls deep every time his cock entered me. I was lost in pleasure, getting rammed like this in front of someone whose intent was watching me get fucked, and mine to let him watch me. He let my leg fall and fucked me in a standing doggystle position as I was forced to push against the window to be able to take his hard thrusts, I couldn't have imagined being in a better situation. He then picked my other leg up and kissed me along my neck as he went back to fucking me with my leg in the air, the whole time with me staring dreamy eyed out the window.

He fucked me against the window like that for a while before he brought his hand down over my clit again and started working it. At that same moment a light came on in the room across from the one we were in, and in my head that registered that I was indeed being watched. Combine all the factors of me getting fucked up against a window, my clit being pleasured immensely, and someone watching it all happen took me to a level I can honestly say I've never been before. The leg I was standing on was getting weak and I felt my body spasming and my pussy closing around Jeff's cock.

"Oh, keep fucking me Jeff, I'm gonna cum, oh god I'm gonna cum!" I moaned.

I started breathing heavier as I looked out the window at the room where the light came on at, thinking about whoever it was jacking off to me getting fucked hard against a window. That thought and the urgent stabbing of Jeff's cock stabbing inside me as well as him pinching my clit sent me over the edge, big time. I closed my eyes and held the window for dear life as I came screaming as if I was being killed. I could feel my wetness running down my leg as I lay limp against the window trying to catch my breath. I don't know how long I was dazed, but when I came back to reality Jeff was holding on to me tight and gritting through his teeth he was about to come.

"Come inside me baby, fill my pussy up with your hot cum, baby!"

He gasped because I rarely let him cum inside me, but he didn't have time to debate it as I felt him squeeze me and seconds later I felt his hot cum start squirting inside me. If I had the strength I could have came again just from feeling that but I was too wiped out from everything else, so I just enjoyed the feeling. I noticed the light across the way was no longer on, but didn't think about it too much with all the cum flooding up my insides. When he finished cumming inside me he fell down to the floor, and since he was the only reason I was still standing, I fell right along with him.

"Wow baby, that was amazing! That was fucking incredible!" Jeff said breathlessly.

"Yeah it was, I don't know what came over me," I lied and grinned.

"You got wild! I hope whatever it was comes over you again!"

"I hope it does too," I said to myself as I cuddled into him on the floor. I wondered what he was thinking, whoever he was as he watched us fuck, me fuck myself, and then watch us fuck a second time. I wondered what he was thinking now that the sex was over. Was he just using his camera to get a better view or was he actually taking pictures? I didn't know and at the moment I didn't care, I just hoped that wasn't gonna be the last time he "looked" in on us, for fantastic orgasms sake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Its been a week and I've seen no signs that he were being watched as we fucked. I tried new things and did things I didn't do often to get him to watch, but I still got nothing to my knowledge. I wrote it off as a one time thing and that he moved on to looking at someone else. I should have been relieved like a normal woman, but I felt a little disappointed that my new fantasy has to come to an end so soon. I told myself it wasn't the end of the world and moved on, maybe something else could spark my interest, or maybe someone else would be interested in playing voyeur in the near future.

The next day after I got out of the shower I went down to check my mail and noticed a big unmarked envelope sticking out of my mailbox. I grabbed it and the rest of my mail and headed back to my room. Intrigued by what the envelope could be I opened it and gasped at what I pulled out. There were pictures of Jeff and I fucking from the first time I noticed the flash up to a few days ago, in various positions, with extremely good graphics. There were even some of me before this whole thing started. I grinned to myself as I looked over the photos with great enthusiasm, he did zoom in like I thought he did, and the lights I left on help to get some great picture quality. All the photos were numbered and they were all there so I was confident he didn't keep anything, I guessed he was one of those types who just liked to look. I fished in the envelope and found a little card taped to the inside and tore it off. I saw writing on it and grinned, happy he was indeed watching the time I put on a performance, and that he would be watching me time and time again. I smiled as I read the card to myself.

"Thanks for the show."



Thanks For Your Support



To my friends and family,

This past year was not exactly been the easiest for me. Just when I feel like I can dig myself out of the hole something shoves more dirt back in on top of me. Thanks to all you I survived. You guys have showed me that I am a hell of a lot stronger than I ever thought I could be.

George, I could not ask for a better friend. I never thought I would find someone who would support me anywhere near as much as you do. I know that if I need someone to talk to I can always call you. You truly showed me that I can do anything I put my mind to. 

Angela, my friend, you truly rock. You are like family. I know I can count on you to be there when I need someone. You always seem to know what to say to me in order to make me feel better when I am feeling down.

MJ, your heart is as big as your laughter. Thank so much for always caring enough to how everyone in my family was doing. The support you give all of the musicians is more than I could ever ask for. 

Joey Spoons, where do I begin. Two years ago you gave a shy quiet girl the chance to perform. Now look where I am. I never thought I would be performing with the amount of confidence that I have now. Every time I come back I feel like I am coming home. 

Roy, my friend, I know that the continent separates us but I feel as if you know me as well if not better than some of my friends that live around the corner from me. I have to apologize to you for spending so much time not talking to you. I have just been so incredibly busy and I have sadly been neglecting the people that I should have never neglected. 

Sharon, my mommy, I love you. Sometimes I feel like the only time I talk to you is when I need someone to emotionally dump onto. Yet you are always willing to listen to me. Sometimes I wonder how you put up with all my complaining. 

Mom, you are not just my mother. You are my best friend. I can tell you anything at all. I do not have to worry about telling you stuff because you and I have absolutely no secrets . Sometimes you probably wish I did not tell you some of the things that I have. 

Grandma, you have been there for me since the day I was born. This year has been unusual. I have gotten the chance to be the one to support you. I wish you a speedy recovery but I need you to know that no matter what I will be there to support you and help you with whatever the future may have in store for us. 

Uncle Mike, you treat me as if I was your own daughter. Every time I need advice, I know I can turn to you. You are a true inspiration especially when it comes to my music. I also know that if I need anything I can ask and if you can you will help. 

Chris, my dear, our journey has just begun. I never thought I could find someone so incredible on a dating website. Yet here we are . I do not have a clue what the future holds but if our beginning is any indication I truly believe this is going to be an amazingly, enjoyable ride. I thank God that I took a chance and joined Zoosk because if I had not I would not have met you, my sweet, handsome man. For me, having a man in my life that truly understands how important family is to me. It is wonderful to have someone who does not feel threatened by how close I am to my mother.

While this past year was not exactly the easiest for me, I am incredibly lucky to have every one of you in my life . Each of you have been incredibly supportive. I know that whether I need a should on which to cry or someone to laugh with me, I will have someone by my side. I thank God above for that. He brought me a group of friends that mean the world to me. I do not know what the future has in store for me but I know that whatever it may be I will have the support of my friends. I love you guys. 

Meg